Trauma
by theSoundofLiterature
Summary: A traumatic event is the catalyst that propels Quinn and Rachel to become closer than they ever thought possible.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1 –

Traumatic Beginnings:

**(Saturday, May 7****th****) 3:15am:**

Quinn was erratic. Her thoughts had all begun to muddle together and form a sea of indecipherable shapes and thoughts. Perhaps that party hadn't been such a great idea, she thought post maturely. She didn't even know why she had bothered to come – she could do without many of these people who she once considered her "friends," the football players and the cheerios who had flocked to her like sheep one year, and then abandoned and ridiculed her the next. She secretly smirked at the fact that they all came scrambling back to her control once she was made Cheerio captain again - it was the worst game one could play; and she was tired of it.

"Quinn?" Quinn's mind snapped back to the present as she re-focused her hazel eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she gazed out of the window, she had almost forgotten the little brunette was even there. Scratch that – she definitely hadn't forgotten, in fact; this particular brunette was the central force behind Quinn's most recent emotional downfall. Rachel Berry would be her incomparable ruin – Quinn had no doubt about it.

She gripped the steering wheel to her car and sighed. "I forgot you were here. Sorry…you're quieter than normal." Rachel turned toward the passenger window and gazed at the stars, hoping to catch a constellation or two; but the sky was too polluted with light and smog, she exhaled. Rachel sagged against the side console of the passenger side and closed her eyelids; feeling the breeze careen softly against her face as they drove.

"I'm just tired… Quinn?" Rachel had looked up then, her head still leaning against the car as she refocused her attention on Quinn as the blonde drove silently through the street. She inclined her head slightly to let the brunette know that she was listening.

"Why did you offer me a ride home from that party? Why did you help me?"

Quinn's eyes grew angry. She had spent the greater majority of her time attempting to calm her nerves, which were static with adrenaline and feral anger. She turned her head a bit more and could still see the puffiness ringing around Rachel's eyes – In all honesty Quinn had gone to that party specifically so that she could keep an eye on Rachel. True she had been invited anyway, but word around the Cheerio circle had let slip that Rachel Berry would be the target of a cruel joke. The fact that Rachel got a personal invitation to tonight's party from Karofsky himself was already a blazon red flag.

**(Saturday, May 7****th****) 12:15am – 2:45am:**

Quinn had arrived and, as inconspicuously as she could (which is pretty damn inconspicuous) kept a close eye on Rachel; quickly dumping out cups that were made for her by Azimio or the Cheerio's, offering to take them to the brunette herself, since she _was_ captain – Rachel hadn't even seen a roofie spiked cup once all night, thanks to Quinn. But sometime between the hours of 1:15 and 2:20am, Quinn had lost sight of her. She looked everywhere for the brunette, ignoring Santana and Brittany's quips about being a party pooper. She had to find Rachel, Karofsky and Azimio could not be trusted. It wasn't until almost an hour later that Quinn found her. It took her every ounce of composure she had, not to cry out for the smaller girl.

Rachel had been placed in the garage. The air was thick and stuffy – Quinn saw her almost immediately. She was duct taped to one of the cars in the driveway, while her mouth was simultaneously constrained. And she was covered in paint. The skin around her face had begun to peel and chip, and she reminded Quinn of those old Fresco paintings of Ancient Greece that she had learned about once on a museum trip as a kid– Her heart broke. She let out a barely decipherable sob before pushing her way over to Rachel. The little brunette had opened her eyes then and began to squeal through the tape covering her mouth.

"Shhh, it's ok."

Rachel tensed her body away from Quinn's outstretched fingers as Quinn began to attempt to remove the duct tape. Rachel whimpered as she squirmed away from the head cheerleader, something that sounded like a sob escaped her bound lips as she shook. Quinn's eyes flashed incomprehensibly at Rachel's blatant fear – of her, before they simply became wrought with regret and sadness. Quinn's eyes watered, and glossed over as she held back tears – her voice came out strained and shaky.

"Shhhh, it's ok, don't be afraid. I'm going to get you out of here. Shhh, baby, it's ok."

Rachel's eyes widened as a few tears emerged from her already blotchy face as she whimpered again, this time she didn't recoil as Quinn placed fingers upon binding and quietly released Rachel of her prison. The last piece of tape finally came off - Quinn pulled the tape from across Rachel's face quickly and delicately at the same time, in hopes to prevent pain as much as she could.

"Why are you he-,"

Rachel began to whisper. Quinn shook her head, and grabbed the brunettes paint covered hand.

"I'm taking you home. Come on, my car is parked out back." Rachel nodded silently and followed shakily in Quinn's wake. The congealed paint pealed off her skin as she ambled tepidly forward.

**(Saturday, May 7****th****) 3:15am:**

"Why did you offer me a ride home from that party? Why did you help me?"

Quinn could barely look Rachel in the eyes after the small brunette asked her that question. It seemed simple enough, but for Quinn It was everything – Rachel was everything. And she couldn't see her fall apart, because if she fell apart or lost herself, then so would Quinn.

The blonde exhaled as she snuck a glance at Rachel – she was still covered in orange and silver paint, Quinn had placed a towel on her seat so that Rachel wouldn't feel awkward about possibly damaging her interior (even though Quinn could have cared less).

"I… I've been trying to help myself for so long now – I'm not who I used to be. We'll leave it at that for now."

Rachel let out a small smile, despite the crinkle it made when the paint along her mouth and eyes chipped. She couldn't decipher exactly what it was about Quinn's words that had struck a chord within her, but somehow she felt that whatever Quinn was attempting to get across, it was much deeper than her words cared to let on. Rachel turned her gaze out of the window again, she was so struck with all of the emotion of the night that she was bubbling over: with confusion, unease, fear, anger, gratitude, and every thing else that she couldn't quite discern separately. She wiped her eyes quickly at the brim of tears that had begun to well in her eyes; further smearing paint as she sniffled.

Quinn turned her head around then to look at the crying diva seated across from her. She didn't look sad, but rather tired and weary. The blonde almost felt as if all of the emotions in the world linked them together at that very moment. She took a hand off of the steering wheel, keeping the other one in place, and placed it on top of Rachel's paint smeared one, squeezing gently, but with silent purpose.

Rachel looked up from the window and then down at their joined hands. She gave Quinn a watery smile before squeezing right back.

"Rachel, can we be friends?"

**(Saturday, May 7****th****) 3:17pm:**

The calm before the storm: Isn't there always a defining moment before the storm when it seems as if the entire world is pulsing with electricity, the calm is eerie, and the sensation is otherworldly. Your body will tense before the danger is there, but there is no stopping it is there? It's coming, it's coming.

**(Saturday, May 7****th****) 3:18pm:**

Rachel stared at Quinn for what seemed like hours. Her face looked almost expressionless, her thoughts were probably erratic. Quinn shifted in her seat, uncertain if she was being too forward. Because, why would Rachel Berry want to be friends with her? She tormented the little brunette all throughout high school; it was her "friends" who attacked her tonight. Quinn wasn't a hero; she was an enabler. No matter how genuine her feelings had always been for Rachel, the diva would probably never trust her. She recalled the look of blind fear etched across the brunettes face as Quinn first attempted to help her, and it was heart-breaking. There were numerous reasons for Quinn's actions that night - and too many of them were much deeper than the blonde or the paint covered brunette were ready for. Truthfully, Quinn deserved nothing from Rachel - she didn't deserve friendship, camaraderie or trust for that matter. Most of all trust - and yet here she was, blindly asking for it.

She sighed as she moved to release her hand from the brunette's smaller one - as if scorched. Because Quinn was anything if not receptive, The brunette most not want nothing to do with her, and who could blame her. However, to their mutual surprise, Rachel squeezed the blonde's hand tighter, unwilling to let go.

"You called me Rachel."

Quinn looked up, her brows furrowed but her features showing no emotion, she nodded silently. There was magnetism in the air just then – something passed between the two seventeen year olds in that singular instant.

Quinn felt like the world had stopped, and all that was left was her and Rachel in that moment. Quinn would later think back on that pivotal millisecond and recall that the electricity between them was also slightly unnatural, she would recall how the hairs on the back of her nape had risen as she looked at the brunette across from her. She would remember hearing a faint screech of tires as Rachel answered her again, her smile brilliant and promising, even though both of them knew that the blonde deserved anything but forgiveness.

"Yes, Quinn, I would very much like to be friends with you."

She would recall the pair of blinding white lights that would follow immediately after her breath hitched. And then everything would go black.

**(Saturday, May 8****th****) 3:35pm**

There were flashing lights everywhere. Her vision was blurry and scattered. She finally managed to open her eyes to slits and the entire world shifted. Her head spun dangerously, and she fought off the unyielding urge to vomit. There was pain everywhere, it was blinding, and she couldn't move her legs. She could feel hands working at her waist frantically.

"She's conscious!" Someone was yelling next to her ear. She squinted and swallowed back vomit again. Her head felt unnaturally heavy and she whimpered in pain.

"Sweetie, keep your eyes open for me." Quinn opened her eyes as much as she could, her vision was still blurry and erratic, but she could make out a blurry face staring down at her – a woman was looking at her, holding a flashlight, and moving it quickly in front of her dilated pupils.

"W-What happened" Quinn wheezed out. She noticed that her breathing was strained; it was difficult for her to intake enough air, and she felt like she was suffocating. She coughed violently, sending a shuddering pain through her broken body – she was spitting up blood.

"I'll need a chest tube stat." The young woman turned back to Quinn again as she worked meticulously to save her. "I'm an EMT, you were in a car accident. We're helping you as best as we can, where going to get you out of here ok." Quinn nodded weakly, before she was lifted out of her broken car, an oxygen mask was placed over her mouth and she could see the night sky as she was fitted onto a gurney.

"Rachel, where's Rachel?" She was going into shock, her body had tensed and she couldn't register much of anything. "Find her!" She wheezed, despite her constricted airflow before being overcome with nausea again. She started coughing; there was more blood this time. She couldn't fight the sickness that was coming, and she threw up violently. Her oxygen mask was frantically removed, her head buzzed around her, and her eyes slackened. And then she blacked out.

**(Saturday May, 7****th****) 10:42am:**

"Hi, are you Mr. and Mr. Berry?"

A small doctor, who stood at about 5'7 had just approached the two fathers in the ER waiting room. He was holding onto a large clipboard, and he looked tired - strained, and weary. The two fathers nodded amid their fear and worry. Hiram clutched Leroy's hand violently as he shook in agony. The doctor scanned over the two of them briefly, perhaps trying to find a familiar face among the crowd of waiting families, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"By chance, have you seen a Mr. and or Ms. Fabray this morning in the waiting room? I'd like to speak to both families as a unit first, and then separately as I inform you all of your daughters conditions."

Leroy and Hiram shook their heads. The small doctor sighed and beckoned the Berry's to follow him to the waiting room outside of the ICU.

"ICU? Why is our baby in ICU?" Leroy couldn't contain his tears, as the realization that his daughter may not be okay finally descended upon him. Hiram blinked away the emotion behind his eyes and squeezed his husband's hand solemnly. The doctor turned around once they had reached the ICU waiting area, and began to speak.

"I'm Dr. Hayes, the attending physician for both Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray. The two girls were involved in a major car accident early this morning. From what we've gathered, they were hit by a drunk driver. Neither of the two girls was under the influence of a controlled substance. When your daughter was rescued from the vehicle she was not conscious, and her vitals were dangerously at risk. She went into emergency surgery, and she is now stabilized."

Leroy shook tremulously as the doctor spoke. "What happened to her?"

The doctor sighed inwardly; he hated giving bad news to good people.

"She suffered from minor head trauma, as well as a ruptured spleen as a result of blunt abdominal trauma, she has 3 broken ribs, a fractured wrist and a few serious cuts, and bruises. The ruptured spleen was what required her emergency surgery, and she had major internal bleeding and hemorrhaging as a result. We gave her a transfusion, and now she's in ICU. If things go well, she should be moved within the next 24-32 hours to a private room."

Leroy and Hiram embraced each other and exhaled the breaths that neither one of them realized that they were holding in. Hiram looked up then at the weary doctor. His face was blotchy and his eyes were red-rimmed as he spoke.

"And what about the other girl, Quinn Fabray. Is she ok, are her parents here?"

The doctor looked at the worried parents patiently before replying.

"She's also in ICU, her injuries were also quite severe, we almost lost her in surgery. I can't really give you any more information until we've spoken to her parents. They've been contacted but have yet to arrive here at the hospital."

The two men looked at each other wearily, the thought that a parent would not come to their child's aid in in a time of need was heart-wrenching. They hoped that Quinn would not have to go through her recovery alone. When they waited in the ICU after the doctor left, they wept not only for their daughter, but for Quinn Fabray as well.

**(Sunday, May 8****th****) 10:45pm:**

Rachel opened her heavy eyelids warily. Her head felt fuzzy and groggy. Her mouth was dry and her entire body was unbearably sore. She pressed her eyelids together harshly as a few solitary tears escaped and ran down her cheeks onto the pillow beneath her head. What happened? She was in shock. Where was she? She re-opened her eyes and managed to incline her head against the pain, she saw all of the monitors and IV's, she was in a hospital gown, and her arm was in a cast. She panicked. She tried to move and get up but her limbs weren't cooperating properly, she began to sob and sputter as she clutched at her IV's.

Leroy and Hiram Berry were asleep on the lounge chairs that had been placed in the room after Rachel was relocated. Hiram woke up at the noise. He looked and spotted his daughter sobbing against the hospital bed, and he shook Leroy awake. The two fathers rushed to their daughters bedside. Leroy stroking her hair back against her scalp – that always worked in calming their little girl.

Rachel began to calm, her eyes cleared and she saw that her daddy's were standing over her, stroking her hair and shushing her soothingly. "Daddy? Why am I Here?" She was still crying, but her sobs had ebbed to the occasional hiccup or whimper as she looked around the sterilized room.

"You were in a car accident darling. You were pretty banged up, but it's going to be okay now peach."

Rachel turned her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. She didn't remember an accident. The last thing that she could remember was the way Quinn looked after she told her that she wanted to be friends. The blonde smiled at her - and Rachel could've sworn it was more brilliant than anything she'd ever laid witness to. And then suddenly there was a bright light followed by unyielding, un-relenting pain. And now she had woken up - in both physical and emotional shock, the image of Quinn's unforgettable smile pressing against the graininess of her eyelids, like an image scorched to the memory.

Her eyes remained closed, as she began to remember the events leading up to her accident.

"Where is Quinn?" was all she replied before closing off from the world.

**A/N: When I first posted this it was early in the morning and so all my time frames were a little off, and I had yet to complete all of my corrections. But here is the newly finished project! I've finally had time to come back to it. I'm really excited for what I have in store for this story - also, don't worry about the time frames - they were mostly used singularly for this chapter mostly as a segue-way but after this and chapter two, it will read less disjointedly. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 –

Disjointed Complexities:

**Quinn:**

That Monday was undeniably the worst possible day that Quinn Fabray could have ever endured – her drug induced brain buzzed with incoherencies as her consciousness wavered against the shock. And the pain, god the pain. Her chest heaved bitterly with every breath as her eyes watered grainily as she opened them - and she wasn't amiss to the wonderful oxygen tube accessory grazing her porcelain features.

She could hear the faint beeping of monitors sluggishly ascend to her ears before being almost immediately faced with eerily cool hands placing themselves along her arms and wrists. She tried to swallow and failed as her eyes traveled up behind drug induced half-lids.

"Quinn?" There was the sound of scribbling against a clipboard as she sensed her monitors being re-adjusted around her.

"Quinn Fabray, can you hear me?" A harsh light was placed before her eyes and she pained against it without much effort. "Blink once if you can hear me."

She blinked – all the while feeling completely ridiculous. She wasn't stupid, and she wasn't an invalid – or was she? Technically she didn't actually know. Her mind flashed to the last memory she had, and it was one of utter joy—of Rachel smiling at her from within her car, agreeing to a friendship that was anything but conventional, and then realization dawned. The accident. Her heart palpitated blindly as she remembered – where was Rachel?

"Rachel."

She whispered – her voice was faint and raspy from in-use she supposed. Inside she was in full panic mode, her adrenaline was pumping ferociously as her composure was unraveling. She had to find out if Rachel was alright, because if she wasn't – the blonde would surely cease to exist entirely. But outwardly, the blonde was strapped to the hospital bed with a temporary catheter – her body was weak and bandaged, and her neck was in a brace. She couldn't have moved if she tried – and god, was she trying.

The nurse acknowledged her consciousness and Quinn could hear a second pair of soft padded shoes approaching – and she was then met with the weary voice of a male, probably her doctor come to bear the labors of bad news she thought as she ached on the bed.

"Hello Quinn. If you can hear me, blink once."

The blonde scoffed, but it came out more like a faint wheeze as she blinked viciously. She felt as though she were being relegated to the life of Jean, from the Diving Bell and the Butterfly – however undirected a stroke was from a car accident. She was worried, scared for Rachel's well being if not her own, and she was tired – extremely tired.

"Great, you're making great progress Quinn. Alright, I'm going to let you know what happened early Saturday morning, if you want me to take a pause, blink twice alright?" We don't need you moving your neck just yet, so blinking will have to do for now, at least until your throat gets less sore."

Quinn blinked again – she was sure tears were imminent, and she couldn't tell if they would be drug induced, or simply emotionally induced as she listened for the Doctors voice.

"Alright, I'm Doctor Hayes, your attending physician for your stay here. Quinn, you are in the Intensive Care Unit at the St. Stephen's Hospital here in Lima. You were transported here by ambulance early Saturday morning after surviving a major car accident. You and Ms. Rachel Berry both arrived here with various injuries ranging from extremely to mildly severe. Am I going too fast?"

Quinn blinked twice, as her eyes watered and the tears fell down onto her cheeks, swimming unnoticed against her skin as the doctor continued.

"You particularly were the first to be rescued from the vehicle. You were hit by a drunk driver Quinn, he ran a red light and he was driving a large Ford F250 model vehicle, with trailer attached– you're lucky to be alive, you both are. Quinn – let me break it down simply. Your car flipped numerous times and landed in a small ravine alongside the road, hitting a small tree. You were both cut out of the vehicle. Your injuries are as follows:"

The blonde breathed a labored sigh of relief, knowing that however subtly, she had just received confirmation of Rachel's survival – and although she couldn't possibly know or aide her recovery – she was relieved to learn that hers had been far graver – because Rachel was her priority, she always had been.

"A fractured right femur, also known in colloquial terms as your right thigh bone. The blunt force of impact, and compression led to that injury as you were trapped by your seatbelt and the compressed dashboard – you also suffered three fractured ribs as result of this compression against the steering wheel– resulting in a severe Pneumothorax injury – which is a punctured lung. Your oxygen intake was dangerously constricted and obstructed by bleeding into the lungs.

"Your lungs collapsed Quinn – and while being attended to on the scene you went into Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. We nearly lost you Quinn – as your breathing shut down, you lost air supply for almost two minutes. Right now however, we have you on a breathing machine – and your throat will be sore for a few days because of the chest tube we had you on – but don't worry, we took extreme care of you.

Apart from having a small concussion as well as several contusions and stitches to your forehead and abdomen, I'm confident that you will make a valiant – if not speedy recovery. But know, that we'll be keeping you here in ICU for a while as we monitor your lungs and ARDS along with other viral organs. This could permanently damage your lungs Quinn – but you've already showed signs of success – and believe me when I say that everything will be just fine."

Quinn's eyes watered profusely – she hadn't realized her injuries would be so serious, and lasting at their worst. She needed comfort, and there was no one there to give it, she needed Rachel – and she needed to know that the brunette was alright, because although her heart told her that none of this had been her fault – her mind reeled and retched at the thought, blaming herself over and over again for allowing Rachel to get into her car. Resenting the very best thing that had ever happened between them – if only it wouldn't have resulted in this.

The blonde blinked back tears as she breathed laboriously with her oxygen tube and, her throat still burning from the recently removed ventilator and chest pump. She closed her eyes as she distantly heard a nurse saying that they were upping her dosage – she didn't nod, she couldn't as her eyes drifted shut and she fell once again into a sleepy haze.

**(Two days earlier, Saturday May, 7th)**

_**The morning of the accident – 3:00pm**_

They were all hung-over. Santana and Brittany had stayed the night/morning as did most of the glee members. The bedrooms were all occupied by the random wayward guests – but mostly the living room at 3:00 in the afternoon simply held a sleeping Kurt on the couch, cradled into an equally sleeping Mercedes. Mike and Tina were spread across the floor on a blanket – spooning ridiculously as they slumbered dazedly. Artie had fallen asleep in his chair awkwardly and Puck sat on the floor, sleeping lazily as he was propped up against one of the giant wheels. Finn was sleeping oddly on the loveseat and Sam was passed out atop the coffee table with a penis drawn hastily against his forehead.

Santana and Brittany had fallen asleep in Pucks bedroom – this particular section of the Puckasaurus' house – was off- limits. Puck didn't bring girls here, he fucked them, left them and didn't remember them. But the ones that he wanted to remember – the ones that he truly cared for, were lucky enough to grace the beast's lair. And as far as Santana knew, only four people were offered that opportunity: Santana, Brittany, Quinn, and Rachel - yes Rachel Berry.

The Latina would usually end up in there with Brittany after one of Puck's parties – simply because she needed a safe, quiet place to put Brittany to bed at night where she knew they wouldn't be harassed or interrupted. They didn't ever have sex there either, they always slept – over the covers, and always alone. And so Santana was now waking up, adjusting her eyes to the sunlight and waking her sleeping love up from beside her.

"It's sunlight time already."

The blonde mumbled sleepily as Santana nodded and ushered the two up them up, leading them downstairs to the living room. It was during this instance that the Latina heard her phone beeping. It was a ringtone that she rarely used and never heard – and so it's cadence across the room was already unnaturally distressing.

"Speak." The Latina was ruthless, but honest. She couldn't say that she was particularly thrilled to be speaking to the creature on the other end of the short line.

"Santana, I know you think you hate me but -"

"No, Francesca – correction. I DO hate you. Stand correct."

"Regardless, I don't give a shit about where we stand. I could care less. But this is fucking important – Quinn is in the hospital, she was driving home from Puck's party last night and was hit by a drunk driver. She's in critical condition in ICU at St. Stephen's. She was with Rachel Berry – she's in ICU too. Critical."

The Latina's heart grew stiff out of reflex – it was important for her to protect it in times of complete stress and disarray. Her eyes watered against her will – and she flinched from left to right as her body constricted. Brittany was encircling her before she could crumble. What happened to her strength.? It had to be the hangover – but regardless, she touched her face and saw tears, and as she watered Brittany did too – already knowing her pain.

"Are you at the hospital?" The Latina choked out amid tears.

"No, I'm on my way, driving from Ole Miss. Mom and Dad aren't there – and I know she thinks she hates me – I know for a fact that you do. But my sister needs someone to be there for her. San – and that's you and Brittany."

Francesca Fabray's voice cracked across the receiver as she spoke. Santana nodded into Brittany's stoic embrace before answering.

"Frannie – get here as fucking fast as you can – or so help me."

And with that she clicked off the phone and pulled Brittany downstairs, not bothering to hide her red-rimmed hung-over eyes as she grabbed an iron fireplace poker and began banging it diligently against the empty keg in the center of the living room, waking all of the Glee clubbers up quickly and matter-of –factly.

"What the FUCK."

Puck roared as he awoke – his headache was monstrous as he squinted against the violation of his eardrums. Almost everyone else had a similar reaction as Santana banged away against the aluminum - she didn't care what they thought – she would make them hear her. Once everyone was awake she stopped, and she quickly walked to the coffee table in the center of the room. It was in this moment that Puck saw her face and her eyes – they were scared, and Santana Lopez, was never scared. He looked and of course Brittany followed her – but not out of companionship and love – Brittany held Santana as if supporting her like a stable column – unwilling to let the girl fall to pieces.

"Oh shit."

Puck whispered, as all was not lost on any of the other glee members. The silence in the room was deadly as they all blinked away their headaches replacing them with unwarranted fear.

"Rachel and Quinn are in ICU at St. Stephen's…they were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from the party last night. I don't know anything else but that they are in fucking critical as shit condition."

At the last words the resoluteness in the Latina's voice faltered, and her voice cracked in anguish slightly – but it was enough for anyone who knew Santana to know that things were serious – and that they would not be easily fixed.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3 –

Constrained Memories

**(Monday, May 9****th****) **

**5:45pm – Private Room**

Her dads were in the cafeteria. She had begged them to go and get sustenance as they had sat and or/stood bedside along her vigil ever since she was moved into the private room and out of the Intensive Care Unit. To be quite honest, her body felt broken – her abdomen ached painfully every time she breathed in too deeply or moved her torso at the slightest touch. Her surgery obviously the underlying cause – Doctor Hayes had told her earlier that morning that she would be incapacitated for a while, and would probably be staying at the hospital for upwards of a week to two weeks for monitoring purposes.

Although her dads had given her a breakdown of her injuries they failed to mention that the bruising and the bleeding would be unanimous – they also failed to mention that she had sustained an indirect orbital floor fracture to her left eye – things weren't serious but when her dads had hesitantly brought her a mirror she almost screamed at the ghastly sight that was she. Her eye was swollen almost shut, and the entire left side of her face was black and blue and swollen – she had minor cuts and abrasions alongside her cheekbones, and she was not amiss to the butterfly bandage over the small row of eleven stitches across her hairline. She was quite frankly – scared to even take a glimpse at the rest of her body if that's how her face was looking, and it frightened her; as it would have frightened anybody else.

She slept all of Sunday away – and most of today, as she was being heavily medicated for the pain. And all her thoughts simply managed to lean Quinn Fabray, and Quinn Fabray only. Was the Cheerio captain all right? Was she still in ICU? Was someone taking care of her? Would she be okay? The lists of questions were endless and all encompassing. The most important of all ran like a broken filmstrip across her vision. Why had she saved me?

Rachel's swollen eye stung as her face flinched with the unyielding coming of hot tears. She just needed some sort of validation – of course her body was still faintly tinted orange and silver – she hadn't been relegated proper shower time, and the residue of her abuse was still evident. Her dads had seen – but they hadn't asked as of yet – and for that she was grateful.

And soon she was broken out of her revelry by the return of her fathers. Both tired and weathered, but smiling up at her as though she were the center of their universe – she tilted up a corner of her mouth slightly as she winced – an effort at a smile to say the least.

Hiram walked up to her bed and wiped her hair back from her bruised forehead as he smiled wearily down at his daughter.

"You have some visitors." Rachel nodded ever so slightly.

"There are ten of them – Me and daddy think we know just exactly whom they are. We'll send them in by groups of three and two, and each group will have ten minutes peach."

And with that her two dads left the room and were quickly replaced by the worried, relieved, exhausted faces of Kurt Hummel, and Mercedes Jones. She could see their faces smile at her brightly and falter after coming in close – observing her battered form. She tried to smile for them – be strong, but her face hurt too much and so instead she extended small hands, ushering them forward to take them.

"Rachel, you flawless diva – I'm so glad that you're okay."

Kurt's eyes were swimming and he swept quickly at his watering eyes – he hadn't meant to cry. Mercedes nodded tenderly before picking up Rachel's small hand and kissing it softly before placing it back on the bed – all the while holding it as if she never wanted to let it go.

"You scared me munchkin." Mercedes whispered, and Kurt gave Rachel another watery smile.

"I'm okay – You're okay. There is a lot to be happy about. Don't cry, please don't cry for me."

Rachel rasped out faintly – her throat was scratchy, but it would recover perfectly as stated previously by Doctor Hayes – however it sounded just as one thought it might sound after not having completely used it for a few days. Distant and tepid. She smiled at them wonderfully – not caring about the pain so much anymore, and then Mercedes began to sing.

_Summertime and the livin' is easy  
>Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high<br>Oh, your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'  
>So hush little baby, don't you cry<em>

Kurt joined in for the male harmony – he sang in a lower register, picking up with the song. Mercedes and him sounded marvelous, and it was enough. Just enough to get the diva to cry one more time because of the beauty of the moment; she squeezed both of their hands in appreciation as they continued softly and with great purpose.

One of these mornings, you're goin' to rise up singin'  
>Then you spread your wings and you'll take the sky<br>But 'til that mornin', there's nothin' can harm you  
>With daddy and mammy standin' by<p>

One of these mornings, you're goin' to rise up singin'  
>Then you spread your wings and you'll take the sky<br>But 'til that mornin', there's nothin' can harm you  
>With daddy and mammy standin' by<p>

By the time the song was over, Leroy had appeared ushering goodbyes and promises of future visits before leading in Mike Chang, Artie Abrams, and Tina Cohen-Chang. Mike looked scared – Tina looked sad, and Artie just was – If anything he understood the most out of anyone else. He wheeled himself up to Rachel's bed and bumped fists before nodding slowly and with important understanding. Mike hung by the door with his fists in his pockets and his face leaning towards the floor.

"Mike – I'm glad you're here. Don't worry about my face; it'll go away in a week or so – but for right now, its just Rachel. And I'm fine. Come over here."

Mike nodded – most of his fear dwindling as he linked hands and fingers with Rachel's as she smiled reassuringly up at him from the bed. Tina sat at the edge of the bed, staring at Rachel intently for some time as the three of them passed silent understanding in a round. They didn't really speak – but it was enough. It always had been – and especially was now.

And then came Finn and Sam. Finn had clearly been crying and his eyes were all puffy – when he walked into the room he flinched at the sight and his eyes grew angry if nothing else. He approached Rachel and didn't know where to put his hands but he sat next to her bed and looked at her sadly. Sam came over and sat on the other end of the bed – not so much sad, but happy to still have Rachel in his life.

"I'm so mad…I want – I want, why you?"

Finn sputtered as he sat down before taking his palms and shoving them onto his face, shielding the tears that were definitely coming. And Rachel sat and smiled for him – giving him reassurances she knew that he desperately needed.

And when the ten minutes were up – in walked in Santana Lopez – she was being strung into the room by Brittany, and Puck ambled in after them. Santana looked oddly forlorn – she failed to meet the diva's eyes directly as Brittany held her hand, and Rachel pitied her; because she was nearly emotionless it seemed – and what about that was not worthy of pity. Puck brushed hair behind her ear and sat on the bed, kissing her cheek softly and with great care.

"Glad to see you're alive little Jew."

He smiled at her and she looked back at him with tender eyes. She had always had a soft spot for Noah Puckerman – he was a softy and he was incredibly sweet, if you ever had the privilege of truly befriending him.

"Hi Noah."

And then Brittany came over – climbed into the bed and wrapped arms around Rachel's still form – it had been so graceful that Rachel had almost felt no change in movement. She smiled at the comfort and she patted Brittany's back.

"Hi Rachel. You look scary – this should be your Halloween Costume this year because it's so good. You'd get a ton of candy and stuff. Also, I'm so happy you're okay, because you're awesome – and I always wanted us to be friends."

"Can we be best friends?"

Rachel was shocked at the question, and she was breathless – for having been asked – but also for the direct memory of Quinn Fabray – and how that is the exact same thing that had been asked of her before all of this dreadful hulabaloo. And then she cried _again_ – sad tears because she needed to know about Quinn. She had to have some type of reassurance.

"Did I say something wrong? – we – we can't be friends?" Brittany's chin trembled, and Santana was at her side quickly giving Rachel a glare to be feared.

"No – I want to be your friend, I always have. It's just – How is Quinn? I haven't heard about how she's doing. Is she okay, please tell me yes."

Rachel's tears were unyielding now, and Santana softened, silently brushing them away softly. The Latina squared her shoulders for strength before speaking.

"We don't know. She's still in Intensive Care, and she hasn't woken up yet."

Rachel bit back a sob as she nodded quietly against the Latina's warm hand. They stayed like that for a while – or t least until the visit was over. And then they slowly ambled out of the small room – leaving Rachel to her singular thoughts.

**Quinn:**

_**Monday continued…**_

**9:36pm – **

After drifting in and out of consciousness after Dr. Hayes had left earlier that morning she was shocked to see someone sitting in her room – they were curled up in a small chair, reading a book with quiet resoluteness, the blonde hair and hazel eyes were unmistakable and Quinn instantly put up all of her mental walls. The girl looked up, and her eyes flashed once – giving away her composure – before the Fabray emotionless tactile took effect. The sisters simply stared at each other, one broken and battered – the other simply broken. And then Frannie sighed into her hand before setting her book down after dog-earing the page.

"Hi, sis."

Quinn rolled her eyes and grimaced as she tried to huff – her breathing was still extremely pained and her chest tightened involuntarily at the action. Her eyes widened at the painful constriction and the false airs of emotionless staring were gone as Francesca Fabray hurried to her sister's side – worried for her well being as Quinn grimaced and wheezed, clearly in terrific pain.

Frannie pressed the call button and momentarily an RN came in, assessing the situation – she said that constricted chest pain was normal for recovery, before adding a dose to the blonde's drip, and upping her ventilator. After the nurse was gone – the look of panic was gone from Quinn's face – however her breath was still haggard and wheezy.

"I know you hate me…I know. I did terrible things, and I don't expect your forgiveness – but please let me stay."

Quinn blinked before trying to roll her head to the side, breaking their visual hazel connection – but that too was sore. And the pained blonde let out a small whimper as her body ached ripe with unsolicited movement. Frannie wiped her red eyes – although her face never changed – she was always stoic, and unexpressive – it was Fabray.

"Mom…?" The blonde wheezed out. She hadn't expected her parents to call – but she at least hoped that her mother would be at her bedside – and it hurt her heart to feel so alone.

"Dad was the one who called me. He's in Australia, on vacation. He couldn't find a flight for Saturday, and once he found out that you were alright … he said that he'd make it back as soon as he could – which is the end of this week unfortunately. Mom isn't doing so well Quinnie…she had an episode once the police called, and went into a full panic attack. – And so right now, you have me. I know that sucks - but I'm your sister – and I love you regardless. I'm here for you – even if Mommy and Daddy can't be."

The small blonde let the pools of tears escape her tired, drug laden eyes. She had almost died apparently – and the only family she had, that actually cared – was her fucking sister. It was wonderful how the world transpired against her sometimes. Her and Francesca did not get along. They never really did though, and so that was nothing new. However, it was the incident last summer after Quinn's sophomore year of high school at McKinley that her family life finally took it's final shattering blow. The tears were hot, and acidic as the blonde's mind flitted back to the last time she had seen and even remotely cared for her sister.

_July 4__th__, the previous summer:_

"_Quinnie!" _

_Francesca yelled from her BMW 1 series, cherry red convertible. Her overlarge shades hung loosely on her pretty face as she yelled from the driver's seat. _

_Her older sister was home for the summer, after finishing up her junior year at Ole Miss. And today she had planned on taking her little sister out for a night on the town – in Chicago no less. Quinn was eerie of Francesca – because God knows, the girl was prone to trouble – but, bringing along Santana would make the trip that much more bearable. _

"_Get your asses in the car bitches!" _

_Frannie trilled as Santana and Quinn made their way to the convertible, jamming their overnight bags in the truck and hoping in to the back seats. _

"_Did your sister just call me a bitch? Fuck no." Santana grimaced from the back seat – she stared daggers into the older blonde's backside as they pulled out of the Fabray driveway. Frannie was oblivious to the tension as she switched between radio stations mindlessly as they drove._

"_Quinnie, I'm so happy we can spend some quality time together this summer. Especially after all that fucking baby drama and shit – that was fucking depressing. Could you imagine me having to tell my sisters about that back at school? Can you say, 'Goodbye Chapter Vice Presidency?' It's a good thing daddy kept it so under wraps – for all of us." _

_The blonde scoffed in disbelief. Her sister was such a douchebag – and it quickly reminded her why they didn't get along. Beth was singularly the most important thing Quinn had ever done with her life – and she was never ashamed, if anything she was proud – but to be treated like a social leper by her very own family – that was the straw that had broken the camels back if you will._

_Santana wrapped Quinn's hand in her own fiercely as she scowled from the backseat. They were on their way to Chicago for a one night, two daylong excursion with Quinn's daft, demon sister. _

_This trip would be most memorable the younger blonde thought as they rode off into the morning breeze._

And then her lapse in memory was disrupted as Dr. Hayes made his way into the small hospital room. Frannie looked at him worriedly before sitting back down in her chair by the bed. Quinn turned her head slowly to watch his incoming blurry form – regretting it instantly as her body shook again in pain.

"Hi Quinn. Feeling any better tonight?" The blonde wheezed, and frowned as her muscles constricted in pain.

"It'll get better, I promise."

Dr. Hayes looked from the bruised blonde in the bed quickly to the other beautiful – although unremarkably so – blonde sitting in the corner. The resemblance was striking; same small, dainty nose – full rosy lips, and clear skin – but he was not lost on the fact that Quinn had clearly stolen the cake – she was ethereal, where as her older sister was simply a pretty face, if nothing more. He extended a cold hand, she took it tentatively.

"You must be Quinn's…sister, I presume? Thank you for coming. I apologize for not having introduced myself sooner – My name is Dr. Hayes, and I am Quinn's attending physician here in ICU."

"Francesca Fabray." She nodded in return. Quinn coughed at the name.

"Nice to meet you – If you have time later, I can go over all of our plans for Quinn's recovery as well as a detailed prognosis of exactly what happened, and what she's currently dealing with. But – for right now – on a lighter note. ICU visiting hours are almost over, and I have a small mob of guests that have all been patiently waiting to visit Ms. Fabray since she woke up earlier this morning. Are you up for that Quinn?"

The blonde nodded. And Dr. Hayes smiled warmly at her – he ushered Frannie out of the room, and a nurse returned, bringing the first round of visitors.

"QUINN!"

Brittany yelled happily as she rushed over to the bed, studying her captain with love and reassurance as she hugged her warmly and without pressure – Quinn smiled warmly – not realizing how much she truly missed Brittany. Santana walked in afterwards, her eyebrows furrowed, but that knowing smirk graced her lips.

"You look like shit, _Hermosa_."

Quinn grinned into Brittany's hair as she locked eyes with her other bestie – the raven haired Cheerip kept her smirk as she took to Quinn's other side, enveloping her arms around Brittany and Quinn like a barrier. When the blonde looked up again she noticed the flash of a tear escaping her Co's dark eyes before being brushed away quickly and without confidence – she pretended like she didn't see as she fluttered her eyes closed.

The voice was paper thin and very unlike her Latina – but she heard it clear as day.

"We thought we lost you _Mija_ – I thought…"

The sentence fell of into unsaid nothings as Quinn held back tears herself. She patted her back reassuringly with a tape and IV laden hand – painfully aware of its frailty as she moved it concentrically.

"You scared me Q. I don't like being scared – you and Rachel scared everybody silly. It wasn't nice. I told her she should keep her face right now and save it for Halloween because it's totally scary," Britany looked up quickly at Quinn's bruised and cut face for a few seconds before continuing' "actually, you should too. You'd both have the rad -est costumes."

And Quinn's eyes had snapped open – Rachel. She had almost forgotten with the surprising arrival of Frannie and San and Brittany. But now it was all ramming into her like a train into a stationary wall. The tears prickled and stung – and her heart rate picked up – which was troublesome since she was still having troubles breathing because of the ARDS. She wheezed into her oxygen tube – as she tried to calm her tensing muscles. Her shoulders tightened in pain as her chest heaved.

"What's wrong?"

Brittany panicked as she moved up looking down at the blonde on the bed with worry and tears pooling in her blue eyes.

"Rachel.."

Quinn wheezed harshly before coughing – the action shot electric waves through her chest as her broken ribs whipped against the bandages – she froze in pain - hot tears leaking from the edges of her tightened eyes as her face reddened, but she finished her sentence.

"She's okay?"

Santana hit the call button for the nurse as she watched Quinn drown in pain and lack of consistent oxygen – it was enough to bring tears back to the Latina's hard eyes. She nodded ferociously, and answered in a quickening cadence.

"We saw her a few hours ago. She was in ICU, but got moved to a private room yesterday. She looks pretty beat up – I think they said she had a ruptured spleen, and some broken ribs. She also broke her wrist, and she has an eye/cheekbone fracture – so her face looks like a beat up slab of meat if you ask me. But the hobbit is okay – just like you'll be."

The blonde eased a bit and once the nurse arrived, she looked over Quinn patiently and carefully finally leaving with the rule that no one was to cause her stress. The two Cheerios nodded profusely before looking back down at their bruised captain. The RN returned moments later with news of other visitors – the rest of the glee club and she shut her head against the throbbing pain. Santana waved a hand and watched somberly as the other eight kids came waddling in with looks of weary and sadness written laboriously over their faces.

No one came up to her bed and held her hand. None of them really even spoke to the blonde. There wasn't a soul who wiped the stray hair away from her pain perspiring brow as she clenched her teeth. She could have chalked it up to indifference - but in reality - it was simple fear. She was a bitch to all of them, and she deserved none of their sympathy, least of all Rachel Berry's. She imagined them all hugging and crying over the brunette as they consoled her – and she was deeply affronted – she would never have that; because she was Quinn Fabray.

And then Puck took the first simple step towards her bed, his head was low and he didn't look up until he was directly at her side wiping her cheeks – she didn't realize that she had started tearing again. And then the dam was broken as both Finn and Sam approached – and soon the entire Glee club was standing over her small bed, consoling her pain and aiding her in her recovery in vastly unspoken waves.

"Hey…" Puck whispered, quietly enough for it to resonate, but loud enough for it to be heard by everyone else.

"I know what you're thinking. And you deserve love – and kindness. No matter what you did or how you did it in the past – you deserve us. And we need you. You may be strong babe – but you're so much stronger with us. Trust me."

Quinn blinked her eyes rapidly – hoping he would understand, and then she smiled with blurry water filled eyes at her visitors. Thanking them with all of her heart for reassurances and love that she didn't think anyone cared enough to give.

And then the odd moment was broken as two unfamiliar men arrived with the RN. One was short and tan with round glasses – the other was tall and looming with kind brown eyes. They walked up to the small bed slowly and tepidly – parting the kids as if they were the physical manifestation of the red sea. Leroy looked down at the bruised girl – skating weary eyes over her oxygen tubes and IV's, her giant leg cast, and obvious chest bandages and constrictions, and his eyes drizzled over as he clenched his hands in his pockets.

Hiram was never the strongest – but in that moment he had to contain his composure because he had a purpose – this beautiful young girl needed care and support and love just as much as their own daughter, and they would give it to her.

"Quinn?"

Hiram said lowly to the half-lidded blonde at the head of the bed – "Thank you. I know it hurts for you to talk so don't. But, thank you for bringing Rachel home to us, even if neither of you reached your intended destinations – and really that is no fault of yours. And so promise us that you don't guilt yourself over the accident. Because it wasn't your fault, or Rachel's."

Quinn nodded, as her head ached and her chest heaved.

"Our daughter is fine – she had some serious injuries much like yourself, but she is and will be okay, just like we believe you will be as well. – We've been waiting for you to wake-up in order to speak with you. - I know that you and Rachel have a terrible if not treacherous past, mostly due to your own transgressions - but I believe in second chances, and I think that she does to. If you'll have us – Leroy and I would like to keep you company as you recover here in ICU. Once Rachel is strong enough, we know she's dying to check on you herself – I swear that girl is more concerned about your well-being than her very own. But that's just like Rachel isn't it?"

Hiram was smiling warmly as he finished, and Quinn blinked rapidly before offering up a small smile of her own. She painfully raised her hand and Hiram took it – and they locked eyes – the understanding was there, and it was completely, truly mutual.

Rachel would be okay – and so would she.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4 –

Loquacious Rendezvous

**(Tuesday, May 10****th****)**

_**Sometime that afternoon…**_

"I hate eating this stupid food" –Rachel grimaced at the small tray that was set before her by one of the RN's. She was staring at the grotesque representations of peas and carrots. She had expressed to the staff that she was vegan – and since St. Stephen's didn't have an eternally extensive menu. She was mostly left with all of the steamed veggie options the hospital cafeteria had to offer – along with a bread roll, and some fresh fruit – honestly she couldn't even eat the jell-o, one of the nurses had smiled happily as they set it in front of her the night before, happy to have provided her with one of their sparse 'vegan' options.

"Here darlin' we were able to bring you some Jell-o. Isn't that great? Something you can eat besides veggies and bread rolls all day."

Rachel had rolled her eyes –well one eye, the other one was still pretty swollen. But that's beside the point, she gently handed the jell-o back and with a small smile explained to the nurse why it wasn't actually vegan.

"Thank you. But I won't be able to eat it. I'm sorry—most people who aren't accustomed to the lifestyle and diet actually overlook jello and other jams preservatives, hair gels, and cosmetics that contain gelatin – and what most people are unaware of, is the fact that that particular binding substance is made from pork/cattle skins and or hide, as well as pork/cattle bones. – but again, thank you for your consideration, I greatly appreciate it."

The nurse had stood there gaping, obviously affronted before scooping up the offending jello cup quickly.

"Did you want me to bring you a yogurt instead?"

Rachel scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion and disbelief – again forgetting about the fact that it would cause pain – wasn't this lady a nurse? Didn't she go to medical school? She really couldn't be that daft, surely. Rachel just shook her head slowly with a quiet "no thank you" before watching the nurse bolt out of her room.

And so as today would be her first full day with completely solid foods, she had made it a point to let Dr. Hayes know of her strictly vegan diet. That recovery milestone withstanding they also told her that her head would still need monitoring but that her vitals had all been stable for quite some time. Apart from abdomen tenderness and soreness from her surgery she felt better than she had over the weekend. Leroy was sitting up reading the newspaper quietly at her bedside as she stared at her graying food.

"You'll have to eat sometime today Peach."

He hadn't even looked up from the sports section and Rachel was instantly annoyed, she pouted and would have kicked her foot had her body not been so pained and bruised and constricted.

She wished her other dad was here. They had both told her of their motive for splitting up, Hiram stayed with Quinn during the morning and late nights while Leroy took the large chunk of afternoon – splitting their shared efforts between the two recovering girls. Rachel couldn't help that initially she was jealous that she wouldn't be receiving all of the attention – but it was for Quinn, and if her daddies could help the blonde recover, than that's what she wished for – if anything she had hoped she could be the one to console the Cheerio captain, no matter how much the thought of a cordial, if not bandaged Quinn Fabray scared her logic.

"Rachel…" The brunette jolted out of her lingering thoughts of Quinn Fabray and shot daggers at her daddy. "Eat. – do you want to be on an IV again?"

Rachel huffed softly before acquiescing, and then a thought struck her.

"If I eat this - can I visit Quinn today in the ICU? I just want to see how she's doing for myself."

Leroy lowered his paper and looked at his daughter's large expression filled eyes. They were bright and flowing with worry, joy, fear, and anticipation. He had know that his little girl had wanted to check on the blonde since she awoke after her surgery – and Hiram wasn't amiss to tell him of the way that Quinn constantly asked about Rachel and how she was doing, failing miserably at indifference and faux nonchalance. He smiled tepidly – of course it would come to this, he just hoped his baby girl was strong enough to withstand the emotional overture that would no doubt become their reunion.

"I'll ask Dr. Hayes if it'll be alright to wheel you over to the ICU during visiting hours – if he says yes, just know that you'll probably be stuck with one or two nurses the whole time, and since your body is still incredibly weak – I wouldn't be surprised if you were in considerably more discomfort tonight after the exertion."

Again Rachel huffed as she picked at her baked potato – at least it wasn't a complete no. She definitely had hope – and so for the rest of her lunch she made faces at her food and pouted occasionally, mostly because she actually felt well enough to. And although her bickering grew tiring – Leroy smiled all the way through it's repetitiveness happily.

**(Tuesday, May 10****th****)**

_**Later that night…**_

Hiram had brought over a large book bag full of awesome junk that morning. Because of her broken ribs, Quinn couldn't sit up very easily but Hiram had helped her adjust her bed via remote controls, and so now she was propped up with three pillows behind her head and an old school array of Gelly-Roll pens at hand as she finished off crossword and word puzzles, occasionally throwing in a connect the dots or an Expert Sudoku. Every now and then she would run into a completed puzzle and run her hand over the glitter gold star sticker on the corner of the page – followed by a rudimentary, nonetheless deathlessly cute cursive signature nee Rachel Barbra Berry.

"Having fun with those puzzles? They're all Rachel's, she hasn't touched any of them in ages but I thought you might like something to bide your time in here besides your mind, or the bad TV – somehow you don't strike me as the reality television type."

Rachel's small bespectacled dad smiled warmly at her from his seat in the corner, where he was quite riveted by his book. Quinn looked at him pointedly – and quietly, her face showing none of her expressions before nodding. Her throat was still sore, but now she could talk much easier – although still shallow and pained, as her breath wasn't quite so unlaborious.

"I love Crosswords…I watch BBC, The Discovery Health Channel, Food Network, Animal Planet, A&E, and The Travel Channel – reality TV is crap." She wheezed through her oxygen tube.

Hiram laughed heartily, and Quinn smiled as she turned back down to her paper – still smiling as she held that glitter Gelly-Roll pen between weak fingers – who still owned Gelly-Roll pens? She thought comically, Rachel Berry, that's who.

"Really? – you pegged me more as the _Project Runway _type."

Quinn rolled her eyes comically as she encircled a new word. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders as she smiled close-lipped into the page. And then the air grew tense – and there was static, the blonde looked up at Rachel Berry's father and he had tears pooling in his eyes as he stared back at her.

"Thank you Quinn"

She stared back with confusion etched across her pristine face.

"For what? I haven't done anything worthy of warranting your thanks."

"For bringing our baby home after the party. She hasn't said anything about it, but if the paint covering her baggie of belongings we were given, or the fact that she still has traces of the paint subsatances on her skin, are any indication – something happened. And you don't have to tell me what it was – but thank you anyway."

Quinn nodded tersely. Hoping this comversation would end soon because she didn't deserve any of it. She had always been an enabler, and nothing had been different about that night – except for the fact that she was finally willing to step up and face her fears head on. She was still a coward, perhaps she always would be.

"Still…don't thank me. Don't ever thank me. If anything, I should be thanking you instead, so let me just do that for now."

Her voice was paper thin and scratchy with the breathing tube, and she hadn't looked at him as she spoke. He simply looked back – his face was full of emotion, an expression that Quinn couldn't directly place.

"On that note…" Hiram cleared his throat and wiped his eyes brusquely before pulling a small phone out of his pants pocket ad checking it,

"Sounds like Rachel might be visiting you tonight - Leroy just texted, Doctor Hayes gave the A-OK."

Quinn frowned – she was positive that she needed to see Rachel for herself just to have a visual confirmation that the girl was alright, but it didn't mean that she wasn't terrified. She was so scared, and she didn't understand what it was about the brunette that brought out this unbefitting array of emotions. The last thing that she had spoken to Rachel was the crux of it all – could they even truly be friends after everything that Quinn put her through? It had been Quinn's 'friends' who nearly gagged and bound her to a car in the garage – how could something so cruel warrant an apology or an understanding?

The blonde wiped her eyes quickly, making sure that Hiram couldn't see through her broken exterior, and she continued on with her word puzzle. The theme was "Happy" and the next word on her list was "Friendship" she looked down at it and grimaced, biting back the lump in her throat before finding it diagonally and reversed on the page, and circling it quickly and purposefully – mostly to get it over and done with so that she could just…move on.

**(Tuesday May 10****th****)**

_**That night – 10:45pm**_

Rachel twisted her fingers nervously around the Hospital band that sat on her un-casted wrist – she fidgeted the entire ride up the elevator to the intensive care unit – and Rachel Berry never _fidgets_. Perhaps it was the presence of jello nurse, and the fact that she was the one accompanying her up to Quinn's room, that fact alone would be enough to unsettle anybody. And as she was wheeled down the fluorescent corridor, the movement stopped as jello nurse paused in front of a room – Room 1003, she gulped and in took a large breath as the large room door was opened and she was left to stare at a demure blonde sitting propped up in a large hospital bed with IV's and oxygen tanks attached at her bedsides. Rachel smiled unknowingly as she observed Quinn Fabray, oblivious to the intrusion and working away at a puzzle book.

"Hi darlin' you have a visitor."

The nurse's voice was distant and irritating as she wheeled Rachel up to Quinn's hospital bed – and the brunette's smile faltered. Quinn looked up from her puzzle and her features changed, she looked faraway as she followed the brunette's entrance. The nurse situated the small diva quickly before waving a hand and saying she'd be back to check on Rachel in an hour before exiting the room – leaving the two girls to stare at each other, one from a wheelchair, the other from a hospital bed.

"Hi Quinn…"

Rachel spoke first – her voice was soft, but it rang against the acoustics of the small room, and the blonde shifted slightly, settling the crossword puzzle down beside her.

"Hi."

Dammit Quinn thought. Out of all the things to say, all she could think of was 'Hi?' What a serious fuck up, they had equally almost been rendered seriously injured or dead, and all she could get out of her stupid mouth was a silly, forgettable salutation.

"I just wanted -"

"Sorry, I meant -"

And then both girls paused – why had this grown so awkward. Quinn looked directly into the brown eyes in front of her, assessing the emotion there, and she noticed that Rachel was just as anxious as she was. And that was when she also took notice to the arm cast on her wrist, and the stitches at her hairline – the bruising around her eye and face, the frailty.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Rachel's eyes widened at the question. She hadn't been expecting a conversation with the blonde – and for a split second she could almost see the emotion behind the finely polished Fabray veneer. And so she smiled reassuringly and nodded.

"I'm just peachy – a broken wrist, and some fractured ribs, and a nasty little eye fracture – but I'm happy to be here."

The blonde nodded slightly before wincing, her neck was still deathly sore, and she in took a large haggard breath through the breathing tubes in her nostrils. She could see Rachel's pained expression at her struggle and tried to smile in reassurance but that hurt too – and so instead – all she could do was well with tears. Tears for what she didn't know, but her eyes misted over, and she cried silently as she stared back.

"Oh Quinn…"

The blonde looked away at the adjacent wall, it wasn't like she could run away from the pain or those large doe-like eyes boring into her, with tears of their own.

"I'm sorry."

The blonde wheezed out as she reached a hand up to swat away at the trail of tears along her cheek.

"What are you sorry for?"

Rachel questioned, confusion etched along her equally damp face.

"I'm sorry for everything – for all the things I did, and all the things I said – I'm sorry for not asking you to be friends sooner – I'm sorry for finding you after it was too late – and most of all I'm sorry for offering you a ride home, because you wouldn't be here in a wheelchair with fractures and bruises and cuts if it hadn't been for me demanding to take you home – all of your suffering, is either a direct or indirect resultant …of me."

Rachel couldn't believe what she had just heard. Where had it come from? Her and Quinn Fabray had had their moments of course – but the blonde had been nothing if not vindictive, verbally abusive, and completely abrasive to her all through out high school. She had always pitied Quinn - because for someone to be so naturally cold - they had to have been suffering on the inside more than anybody could ever know. And so she accepted the apology with open arms – and she nursed it.

"Quinn – I forgave you a long time ago. I've just been waiting for you to do the same with yourself. - But enough of that, how are you, are you okay?"

Quinn smiled tentatively and squeezed her eyes – sure that a new wave of tears were coming, to run down her face in hot streaks, because honestly – she didn't know if she would be okay, but no one had really asked had they? No one asked her if she was hurt that she may never be able to cheerlead again – no one asked her how it felt to know that she didn't really have anyone at all.

"I—uh, I'm…" Her jaw trembled and shut. Opening and closing as new hot tears broke free from hazel orbs of sanctuary. Rachel took her warm hand in her own and steeled herself.

"I have a broken femur - but I'm sure you saw the cast. And other cuts and bruises, really irrelevant…"

"What else." Quinn scrunched an eyebrow in question.

"Your dads didn't tell you…what was wrong with me I mean?"

"No, they told me that you were up and doing well – but as to the reasons why you're still in ICU and i'm not? No they haven't – and I've been worrying myself nonstop since you woke up yesterday. Please tell me."

The tears in the both of their eyes were causing the room to blur and fuzz around the edges – but Quinn nodded before wheezing tightly and continuing.

"Three broken ribs, one of them punctured my lungs and they collapsed on site at the accident. Doctor Hayes says that I was almost two minutes without oxygen intake because my lungs had filled with blood. I mean I'm here now, but I went into Acute Respiratory Distress – so they've been monitoring me, and that's why I have to wear this stupid tube across my face, and blow into an oxygen index thing every few hours – it's also why my voice sucks and I'm constantly wheezing. He says I'll get better though, I hope I do."

The blonde was wiping at her eyes – glad to just be able to talk to someone, as if they could even be friends in an alternate world. Rachel swiped at her own face, and squeezed Quinn's hand with promise.

"You'll be okay – I'll be here for you, you'll get better. I promise."

Quinn smiled and squeezed her IV taped hand back. And the mood lightened considerably – Rachel looked down and saw Quinn's array of books and puzzles and pens, immediately recognizing them as her own and brightened dramatically.

"You're working on my old puzzles." She smiled. Quinn nodded.

"Your dad brought them today – thanks for letting me use them, I was getting bored out of my mind." Rachel beamed back and scooped up the small container of pens, raking over the Gelly- Roll ones before finding a gold sharpie wedged at the very bottom. She beamed as she took hold of it and uncapped it bringing it down to hover over Quinn's large suspended leg cast.

"Do you mind If I – I saw that no one's signed it yet, and I kind of want to be the first. Is that okay?"

The brunette was blushing in embarrassment at her forwardness, now absolutely sure that the blonde would say no. Quinn simply looked down at her with an equally bright smile stretching across her face as she nodded.

"Go for it Berry."

She laughed. She laughed – and Rachel loved the sound, it was simple and elegant – but everything that she hadn't been expecting. She giggled stupidly as she obliged, marking the plaster with Gold ink and adorning it with a large gold star.

Quinn craned her head to look down at the still glistening signature on her large cast – reading it upside down, she smiled all the more brightly once she deciphered the upside down lettering.

"Cheers to a speedy recovery. And a newfound friendship" – Rachel Barbra Berry

The blonde beamed – was she serious? Was this an indirect answer to her question in the car? She didn't know but in that singular moment she was truly happy. And so with newfound courage she grabbed another sharpie out of the small pen box – a green one – and quirked an eyebrow in question; Rachel piped up and wheeled over closer, letting her cast clad wrist stretch over the blonde's lap. And then Quinn scribbled in her beautiful swift handwriting across the plaster. When Rachel looked down at her now adorned cast she smiled.

"Ditto X Infinity –QF" – "Ditto X Infinity?" the brunette asked quietly.

"You know…Ditto times infinity – I liked what you wrote and couldn't think of anything better, so all I could think to write was this."

The brunette smiled again - And grabbed up one of her old crossword booklets and a Gelly-Roll pen from the bedside.

"So…curdled soy milk meat substitute – one word, four letters."

"Yuck - Tofu."

Rachel laughed and scribbled in the small answer – and the two of them continued on that way completing an old puzzle as the minutes ticked by. And finally, jello nurse had returned to check on Rachel and wheel her away back to her room – the blonde was surprised at how sad she was to see Rachel go. The brunette looked equally forlorn as she gave a small wave as the nurse pushed her out of the door.

"I'll be back tomorrow Quinn, promise." She called after her as the door loomed before her, and Quinn smiled unconsciously – happier now that she had someone – however temporary it might be.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5 –

Tentative Friendships

**(Monday, May 15****th****) **

_**A week later…**_

Quinn's pulmonary distress had flared up – and although she had constantly been put on the oxygen mask and tubes – once again she was relegated to the ventilator. It had happened less than 32 hours after Rachel's first visit, and the blonde was left to her room, trapped to her bed with tubing and wiring coming through her nose and around her head. She cried at first – because honestly, she thought that she was getting better. Her mother and father had visited the day after her relapse – and Quinn was less than thrilled.

_Friday, May 12__th__ – _

"_Hi honey." _

_She woke up to her mother stroking her hair away from her damp face. She scrunched her eyes and tried to shake her head away but was shocked to find that she couldn't necessarily move her head. And then she tried to talk - and that was when she panicked. What the fuck was on her face?_

_Her eyes widened in fear, and her heart began to palpitate from within her still healing chest. And her breath caught – and that's when she realized, her breathing wasn't entirely her own. A few tears escaped blindly as her chest constricted, and her mother had backed away from the bed quickly as if burned._

"_What's wrong Russell – why is she doing that…I don't kno –" _

"_Call the goddamn nurse Judy that's what!"_

_And then Quinn could feel her father's presence in her room – and oddly she had the sudden urge to vomit. She could sense his large hands moving her arm out of the way to press the call button at her bedside. And she could smell him – Acqua Di Parma , his signature scent, sandalwood and lemon. It was all business, and it made her muscles tense as she recoiled from its familiarity._

"_FUCK Judy– you have a brain, use it!" _

_And the blonde could hear her mother's faint sobs from the corner of the room – and she detested her father – why couldn't he have stayed in Australia? She had been living with her mother for the better part of the year after the divorce. And it was hard – and that was putting it lightly – Judy Fabray had had a mental breakdown – and everything once again, had stemmed from that terrible weekend in Chicago with Frannie – but that's an entirely different story. However – as a result – Quinn saw her family fall apart, her father left them – her sister succumbed to drinking and partying at school – Quinn shut off almost completely – and her mother, god, her mother ended up having to go in for psychiatric help – her panic attacks were frequent, and could often be set of by the smallest of triggers. _

_And with that. The blonde became incensed at her father's lack of sensitivity or judgment. She wished that she could get out of her bed and beat the shit out of him – but alas, maybe God had stuck her to this pathetic excuse for confinement for a reason. She wheezed._

_And then came in Doctor Hayes and one of the many RN's she had seen off and on since the beginning of her stay. Dr. Hayes hurries over to her bedside checking her vitals and her stats quickly while the familiar unfamiliar nurse looks over her ventilator and oxygen levels. Everything looks normal, and then Doctor Hayes stops and scans the room, noticing that there are a set of four eyes all trained on him curiously._

"_Hi, Mr. and Ms. Fabray I presume? I'm Doctor Hayes, Quinn's primary physician."_

_Quinn watched as he extended a cold hand – Judy was too hysterical to notice, and Russell simply nodded curtly. _

"_What's wrong with my daughter? My eldest called to tell me that she has some type of lung problem – but obviously the hospital staff here is lacking, if they can't even get a hold of me or my ex-wife."_

_His voice was low and steely – borderline harsh as his own cool eyes settled on the Doctor, sizing him up as he spoke. _

"_Actually sir…we did. Numerous times – the most we managed was a distant cousin in Illinois, and her sister Francesca who did come as soon as possible to visit. We called you too many times to count, and were frequently met with voicemail and or no service. Ms. Fabray we managed to get a hold of, but due to her condition it's understandable why she hasn't made it here to the hospital yet. And quite frankly Mr. Fabray, your daughter could use her family – she needs it – her recovery will not be easy, as you can see she is currently hooked up to a ventilator –without it do you think she would survive?"_

_Russell pursed his lips – a calm anger radiating off of his shoulders like heat. Doctor Hayes continued._

"_The only reason Francesca isn't here now, from my personal understanding is because she has finals – and her professors didn't grant her the time off, however she's shown more support than either of you. And so have the Berry's for that matter."_

_At this, Russell Fabray stood from his seat like rapid fire. His head quirked to the side as he bore livid irises into the tired ones of his daughter who lay on the bed unmoving as she observed the incoming confrontation with weary eyes._

"_What the hell are the _Berry's _doing visiting my daughter?"_

"_Quinn was involved in a car accident with their own daughter, Rachel – the two girls have been recovering here at St. Stephen's simultaneously – they saw an opportunity to care for a child that wasn't theirs who needed the love and support – and point blank, they gave it." _

_Russell's cheeks reddened from withheld anger, and his fingers clenched and unclenched. He grabbed his belongings and shook Judy up out of her chair in order to pull her out of the suddenly cold hospital room. His face a representation of blind anger, and stoic disgrace all the while as he moved._

"_I see. Call me if her condition changes." _

_And then he was out the door, and Quinn could here her tired, helpless mother crying as she was practically carried out with him. And the blonde broke just a little bit more as she prayed for the Berry's to rescue her – to rescue her from a life of unhappiness, and a family ripe full of unhappiness and disappointment – she closed her eyes, and let the tears fall. They were a frequent misnomer nowadays._

Since her parents visit to St. Stephen's Quinn had cherished every visit with Hiram and Leroy Berry all the more – most specifically Rachel. Her and the Brunette had spent every possible moment of their recovery together since that initial meeting. Always dancing tentatively around emotions, and comforting one another when the situation arose. She knew that it killed Rachel to see her like this – hooked up to a ventilator and a breathing machine – she couldn't talk, she couldn't do much of anything. And it hurt her, to see Rachel so pained, and so full of sadness for her – when she didn't even deserve the care.

Today Rachel was brushing her hair, making sure to use deliberate care with each and every stroke – she hummed as she worked, a soft tune – and Quinn lulled to the feeling and the sound. Her eyes closing methodically with every note on the wind – she wished she could join in on the humming; she was left to her devices, wheezing every now and then along with the pounding of her ventilator.

"Since I'm well enough to stay up for longer periods of time now, they're letting me sing to the kids in the children's section of the hospital for an hour tomorrow. Im sure that once they witness my talent – they'll graciously extend their invitation to twice a week."

Every so often Rachel would stop her humming to make a small braid, and grace the blonde with one of these small anecdotes – they were usually self-appreciating, and extremely _Rachel_ but the blonde couldn't help but want to smile at the adorableness of it. She blinked her eyes – hoping that the mirth within them wasn't lost in translation.

"I wish you could come with me Quinn. You have a wonderful voice – and those kids would be all the better hearing it – in fact, I would be all the better hearing it…"

The brunette paused in her strokes as she pressed her lips together in a thin line – looking at the hazel orbs of the blonde in front of her deliberately – searching for something to hold on to. Quinn watched her tilt her head in thought before speaking again.

"…promise me that you'll sing for me. When you get off of this stupid machine – because, this sounds silly, but I miss your voice."

The frailty in the words was unmistakable and Quinn could hear the faint falter in the cadence of her voice as she spoke. She locked her eyes on Rachel's face and saw a single tear drip precariously from mahogany perches and she raised a weary hand slowly – she was weak, but she kept her eyes locked on Rachel's as her fingers stroked at the brunette's cheeks softly - wiping all semblance of sadness away, because she couldn't have Rachel crying over her. There were no words as Quinn held her soft cheek. And Rachel simply nodded – understanding pouring out of her eyes – she had to stay strong, Quinn needed her strength.

She laughed hollowly as she lowered her gaze to her hands, fidgeting within soft luminous blonde tresses.

"I'm glad we're friends."

Was all she said, and Quinn's eyes blinked once in agreement – god she hoped she would get better, life had already been hard enough when she had forcefully closed herself off to her emotions and her feelings – but now, to have them all bared and out in the open and not able to express them was a new kind of pain – and as of late – she had a hell of a lot of things she wanted to say.

"I know I should hate you – but after you saved me from that party – something just clicked. And I haven't forgotten, but it was like a door opening because I could _feel_ that you actually cared. We haven't talked about that night, I think we should…or at least…I'll just talk?

Quinn blinked her eyes softly as she listened, letting her thumb thread circles against Rachel's cheekbone in assurance as she wheezed and whimpered against her ventilator. The brunette sighed thickly, letting her eyelashes fall slowly to rest, fluttering against her tan cheeks.

"Well, I knew that Karofsky and some of the Cheerios were out to get me. But the most important thing about being me, is that I have to be strong – not only for myself but for everybody else. And so I took the invitation – fully aware that I was baring my soul – opening myself up to vulnerability by going…"

Quinn kept her eyes locked on Rachel – ushering her on with gentle strokes at her cheek with her thumb.

"I was mostly left alone – I never had a sip of anything, and whenever they tried to trick me into taking their cups I noticed that the drinks kept vanishing into thin air—that's when I noticed you were there, in a corner by the kitchen watching me. You didn't see me noticing but I witnessed you taking cup after cup away from Melissa that crazy Cheerio, and Karofsky and Azimio. I was mildly surprised – but then angered, because you had no right to protect me – I thought you were being insincere, if anything enabling…

"And then, later, as I was sitting outside on the porch contemplating going home I felt large hands and arms grab me from behind – I was picked up – I screamed, no one heard me. And then I could hear them _laughing_, laughing as they carted me into the garage. And then I saw their faces – they smiled at me as they poured buckets of paint on me – I couldn't breath as it clogged my nostrils and coated my throat. They duct tapped my mouth and took pictures as I was thrown against the car and bound there. - they left me there for two hours."

Quinn stroked away the new warm tears that ran down Rachel's olive cheeks – grabbing each one tenderly with her weak fingers hoping to erase the memory completely. She vaguely felt tears of her own trailing down her own cheeks as she listened – but she didn't deserve to wallow in the sorrow of Rachel's turmoil – she had no right. She had been a coward.

"I started to close my eyes – it was becoming difficult for me to breath through my nose, and my mouth was covered – I was growing lightheaded and my muscles cramped against the car – it was painful, I thought that no one would ever find me. Do you know how that feels? To believe that you'll be left to starve, or die of accidental asphyxiation – and that no one will even care to look for you?

"And then I heard footsteps in the far recesses of my mind – and when I opened my eyes, you were standing in front of me – I was terrified, you were Quinn Fabray – you were there to ridicule me further, I was sure of it. And then you saved me. And I was so…

The diva's voice cracked as she lifted a hand to her eyes, brushing her tears before clasping her fingers over Quinn's frail hand that was already sitting there. She intertwined their fingers against her cheek.

"so hurt Quinn. So confused, and so thankful – that someone cared enough to save me. And I was terrified when you offered me a ride home – but as we sat in that car, I looked into your eyes and I could see all of the things that had been transposed across my face; fear, shame, anticipation, worry, doubt – and that was when I realized that I could trust you, in some semblance or form, I could just trust you. And it meant the world to me – more than you can ever know."

Quinn cried as she listened. She cried and her heart cracked open at the brunette's words – She clenched her eyes shut as the tears came hot and unforgiving. She felt small hands wiping her face – and when she opened her eyes she remembered her small clipboard at her bedside – she scrambled for it, grabbing the marker there. And as she brought it down to her lap, she scrawled sloppily against the paper – praying that it would be legible since she couldn't exactly see as she wrote. When she was done she brought the clipboard up to Rachel's eyes – locking hazel on light cherry.

"**I'm so sorry. I'm a coward. I should have saved you sooner – saved you when I first realized our potential – I should have saved you when I realized that I truly, deeply cared**."

Rachel chocked back a sob – what ever could the blonde mean?

"What do you mean, when you first realized?"

Quinn went to work again on the clipboard blindly. She finished and brought it back up quickly – the handwriting was no doubt sloppy in it's haste. Rachel hurried to read the clipboard over Quinn's shoulder.

"**When I joined Glee - I've wanted to be strong for you since then. But I'm a coward. Forgive me, please.**"

Rachel nodded her head furiously – again wiping the tears from her eyes – once again she was shocked – shocked that someone cared, perhaps more shocked that it had always been Quinn.

"I already told you Quinn – I forgave you a long time ago. Please, don't blame yourself – you have me now – we have our friendship, and I'm so glad it was you."

The blonde simply blinked her eyes – happy for their shared understanding – happy to have a foundation for a future – and most of all happy to just be. Sitting in her hospital bed, side by side with Rachel Berry – it was humbling, emotional – and most of all, way too long overdue.

And so it was. The blonde stayed in the ICU plugged in to her ventilator, and as the days passed she bore witness to numerous visits from the Glee Club and Mr. Schue, the Berry's stayed at her bedside, keeping up the system they had previously put into place – and Rachel – Rachel came by as much as she could – spending the afternoons and evenings in Quinn's silent company – brushing her hair, painting her nails, or simply reading to her as time ticked away. And although Quinn was confined to her bed, unable to really speak – she slowly came to grasp, as the hours and days dwindled by, that she was surely, if not purposefully falling head over heels for Rachel Barbra Berry – and she was terrified.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6 -

Fleeting Glances and Goodbyes

**(Saturday, May 20****th****) **

_**sometime that afternoon…**_

Quinn was sitting up in her large hospital bed. Her ventilator was gone now and for the first time in the two weeks that she had been hospitalized she felt on the verge of normality. Of course she still had a long way to go – her lungs were nowhere near strong enough for her to be discharged – but at least she was recovering. She needed something to hold on to, if anything at all.

Her companion and recovering confidant sat across from her in a chair, curled up in Miss Piggy pajama pants and an overlarge t-shirt with Kermit the frog slippers. Her legs were bent Indian style against the cushioning as she leaned back – hand twirling with an errant strand of brown hair as she read out loud – letting the silence of the room encapsulate them – suspended within magical worlds and paraphrases – Rachel read softly aloud.

"_Doing just what she liked; highly esteeming Miss Taylor's judgments, but directed chiefly by her own. The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself…_"

Quinn laughed then at the resemblance of Jane Austen's unforgettable know-it-all heroine to her present confidant. In reality, when one really considered it – Emma, and Rachel Berry, really weren't very different at all. She laughed jovially at the blatant similarities as she ran errant fingers through her hair. Rachel had stopped her recitation – looking up at the blonde with annoyed curiosity.

"And what may I ask is so funny Quinn – there was nothing remotely comical about that paragraph."

Quinn simply laughed harder – holding on to her abdomen quickly as she winced through the breaths – her ribs had been set, but were still healing – and she had been advised against excessive strain to her abdomen and abdominal muscles – laughter was a no-no. But how could she stop now that she could see the stern gaze piercing her from dark eyes – or the way that Rachel tapped her finger with un-withheld irritation against the armrest of her chair. Yes, Rachel WAS Emma – and it was hilarious.

"You really shouldn't be laughing like that Quinn – it can't be good for your ribs – or your breathing regimen. Some people would like to finish the story thank you very much."

Quinn managed a few squeaks before she was finally able to catch her breath. However the smallest of giggles and chuckles still managed to escape her rosy lips every few seconds as she spoke.

"You. Are. Just Like Emma – it's actually scary."

Rachel dropped her mouth in protest as she smacked the book down into the chair.

"I will say that me and Emma are nothing alike. Firstly, she's incredibly bossy, stern, young, controlling – and she must have everything go her way – she feels entitled to marriage and knowledge and success – I am totally not like that…"

By the time Rachel had finished her rant her voice had deflated to a small whisper. With each anecdote that she rattled off, the truths became more and more transparent. She frowned as she looked down at the Jane Austen book that she had discarded in the chair before sticking her tongue out at it – Rachel Berry was always the prime example of maturity.

"Am I really like that? Bossy and stuff…"

Quinn smiled guiltily before patting the corner of her bed, beckoning for the diva to sit down next to her in the wide bed. Rachel drooped her shoulders as she pouted and made her way to the location. She sat down on the blankets and then turned her legs over the railing so that she was now completely propped up in Quinn's bed with her – she crossed her pajama-clad legs again in Indian Style as she positioned herself.

Quinn smiled and pulled Rachel a little bit closer by the hand – Rachel followed the movement, letting the blonde guide her to where she wanted her.

"Yea. You are just like Emma – but that's why I think you're one of the coolest people I've ever met. You know what you want – and you don't care what people think. But one of the best things about you Rachel, is that you're also nothing like her … you're forgiving, and kind, you aren't manipulative – you're cute when you're angry I'll admit that – but you have one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen – and a soul so filled with beauty that the world would be at a loss without it."

Rachel ducked her chin, lowering her eyes to the blanket of Quinn's hospital bed. Things had grown different between the two girls over the extension of their recovery and hospital stay. After those first days of recovery and pain and emotions – they had somehow crossed an invisible barrier into friendship – letting past misdeeds settle behind them – allowing their journeys to finally interlay and weld together. But Rachel had been noticing something odd – she began to look forward to their visits with fervor.

Her heart ached when Quinn was in pain – she cried herself to sleep after the first days of seeing Quinn hooked up to the ventilator unable to speak – she longed for the blonde's touch and she smiled at their now shared memories. There was a swelling in her heart that was so sudden and shattering that she wasn't sure when it had become apparent – but once it did– she knew. She knew with every fiber of her being – that there was an unspoken thread between them – a thread attached to their beating hearts – she was blindly falling for Quinn Fabray. And what a mistake it was, she was absolutely certain.

And so it was with withdrawn eyes that she finally looked up into the beautiful smiling face before her – her cheeks burning – she was treading in deep water – where risk was dangerous and survival was futile – she couldn't fall for Quinn Fabray – she couldn't fall for her ex-tormentor and adversary – she couldn't fall for her knowing that she couldn't possibly receive anything in return. Because she was Rachel Berry - and that was Quinn Fabray.

Quinn smiled at her – sure she hadn't seen someone so beautiful ever before. And when Rachel sighed and lowered her body down onto the bed to rest her head against the blonde's shoulder she couldn't help herself – it was a mistake surely – she should've known better, because she shouldn't have had any of these feelings at all. But seeing the tan skin of the diva's forehead as she settled down – Quinn was overcome with purpose and care – and so with unthinking nerves she lowered her head and brushed her lips against the skin she found between Rachel's brows. The touch was unnoticeable but she kissed again – the butterfly caress of her breath mingling with the sensation of lips on skin as she added fleeting pressure. The prickly foreshadowing of tears beckoned their advances behind Rachel's eyes as her heart rate increased.

"What are you doing?"

Rachel's voice shook as she spoke, unmoving – after the kiss she could feel the blonde's muscles tense beneath her. She swallowed the lump in her throat – she wouldn't be played with – her emotions were running rampant at their continued neglect and she raised her eyes to bore them into Quinn's distanced expressionless face.

The blonde's jaw held taught – she was so stupid – how could she let her emotions get the better of her. That kiss wasn't thought out – and now she braced herself for the onslaught of her mistake – and her barriers ascended like walls over her heart.

"It –I, nothing Berry."

Rachel blinked at the reversion back to her last name – further distance – she could see hazel eyes retreating back into safe, emotionless territory – and she studied the blonde's face, inclining in further so that they were at eye level with one another. And then there was a flounder in the façade as Rachel watched the eyes before her flash with something else behind them – it was fleeting, but she knew…she subconsciously knew that not every action or word was a futile attempt. She leaned in closer in observation, unaware that her nose was painfully close to Quinn's.

The blonde was crumbling at the foundation – Rachel had sat up closer still and now their noses where almost touching – she could feel the brunette's warm breath tickling her eyelashes and soft freckles. And she closed her eyes from the intrusion. Unknowingly inclining her own head further for more sensation; for something else – as her chest beat audibly within her ears.

"Quinn – what…"

And then Rachel's lips where ghosting over rosy ones – their skin un-touching, but the brunette could almost feel the sensation of them in the negative space and she breathed out hot air, watching as the lips across from her own parted at the feeling. Her faze nuzzled closer in question and now their noses, one tan and imminent, the other soft and remotely freckled touched – bumping tips softly in an unwarranted Eskimo kiss. – Rachel inwardly in took air as she felt the quickened hot bursts of air tickling her cheeks and lips as the blonde's breathing quickened – they were millimeters apart now.

What the fuck was going on? Quinn's mind panicked, and veered as she realized that Rachel Berry wasn't backing away – but instead coming closer – much much closer, and her still beating heart swam in the moment. Bursting with passion and care and love – all of the things that she was too afraid to say aloud because she was unworthy of any of them. And before she could make another thought – their noses touched, softly and mistakenly – but it was enough to cause the tingling in her chest to ascend – and her head clouded and fuzzed over—and before she could contain herself, she tilted her head up – and those last few millimeters were traipsed and the searing was blissfully enlightening as their lips finally met in breathtaking unison. Gently touching for the first time and both girls sighed into the embrace.

A parting, and then they were meeting again – lips were fleeting and soft, and Rachel's head buzzed at how perfectly they fit together – her heart was fit to burst as she felt Quinn's warm lips continuously meld rhythmically against her own – and then a soft hand brushed up to her neck, holding it there – and padding thumbs against lower scalp soothingly and reassuringly as their lips met one another again and again.

"Eh hem"

The jerk away from one another was like lightening had struck. And Rachel blushed as she averted her eyes – sure that Quinn would simply call it all a mistake. She looked up and saw Doctor Hayes standing in the doorway with a smirk on his face as he tapped his clipboard. She looked up at Quinn and noticed the blonde was equally red as she played with her fingers against her lap.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies - but I was looking for you Rachel, I have some news. You're fathers have already been informed, but I wanted to let you know on your own as well, and they told me you'd probably be here visiting with Quinn."

Rachel nodded anxiously. Quinn looked up with reddened cheeks and a slight smile.

"Alright good news, you're being discharged within the next 24 to 32 hours. You're recovery is coming along fantastically, and by the looks of things with the proper care and medication you'll be extremely comfortable at home – and you'll probably be able to even head back to school as early as next Monday."

Rachel wasn't smiling – she looked back and forth between her hands and Dr. Hayes tentatively. Quinn's smile faltered at the look in the brunette's eyes.

"Rachel, what's wrong. You get to go hom –"

The diva's gaze still hadn't landed on Quinn – as her emotions had become a heaving mass of disarray and confusion. She stared back up at her doctor and scrunched her eyebrows in a worried frown.

"What about Quinn?"

The blonde's smile fell completely then, now aware of the implications of Rachel's departure – she would be left in the hospital alone – with no family or close friends – and then her heart clenched because she didn't think she could survive without Rachel now, or her dads – she needed them profusely, and her eyes stung at the realization.

Dr. Hayes shifted on his feet – unsettled by the less than ecstatic response to the news. He looked down at his clipboard quickly before glancing coolly at Quinn who was sitting up in the bed staring right back at him. He sighed.

"Quinn – will have to stay for a few more weeks. It's standard for ARDS patients to be admitted from 3-6 weeks or longer depending on the severity. But with you Quinn – you're starting to really do so well, that I don't see it exceeding more than two more weeks. Regardless – Rachel and her family can always visit."

Quinn frowned as she looked off into the corner past Dr. Hayes reassuring gaze. She bit her lip – still tasting the after taste of the brunette's Strawberry Chapstick – she squinted her eyes in an effort to keep the tears at bay.

"But that won't be the same."

Rachel turned her gaze to the small discarded book on her long ago abandoned arm-chair and let the small trickle of tears fall – she didn't look at the blonde or her doctor as she swiped at them slowly and disjointedly.


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7 –

**Departures**

**(Saturday, May 20****th****)**

_**Late that night…**_

The room was dark and quiet, Rachel could feel the small light fixtures bouncing off of her skin in the darkness – she curled her small body up into a ball and repositioned her sore limbs over her knees as she watched Quinn sleeping across from her. Her brown eyes were puffy and red from the exertion of the day – and all of the hidden tears. She couldn't tell you why she had become so affected – but the thought of leaving, of leaving _her_ was almost impossible to bear.

The blonde was breathing slowly and rhythmically, and her chest rose slowly and steadily with every breath as she slept. The brunette eyed her with weary distress as the emotions and events of the day swirled around in the murkiness of her mind. They had kissed only hours before hadn't they? And it was the most wonderful feeling Rachel Berry had ever encountered wasn't it? – It was almost as if her very heart would float to the heavens, captured by the very beauty of the blonde before her. Stolen – if not for good.

And she was terrified. Hadn't Quinn hated her? Hadn't her life become a living hell because of said girl? Wasn't it her, who stood aside and laid witness to the terrible deeds that accrued themselves amongst the masses at school every day? Was this very girl, not the direct cause? –and how could she explain the fact that she had forgiven her so readily – and how she knew she always would? How could she explain that when the blonde had found her in Karofsky's garage, she had been secretly hoping it always would be her? And how could she sit there now, and lie. Lie to the very girl who saved her – the very girl who had always been safeguard to her heart. And most importantly - how could she possibly leave?

And then she heard a shuffling in the close proximity and her eyes refocused, bringing her back from the depths –she looked up to set them on Quinn's – and she was instantly lost. A wayward victim on stormy hazel seas, those eyes would be the death of her.

"You should be asleep."

Quinn whispered into cold air – Rachel's head tilted to the side as she studied the droopy-eyed blonde – smiling despite herself at the adorableness of her. Blonde hair sticking out on the sides, framing her delicate rosy face – her eyelids straining against sleep and her light eyelashes fluttering slowly with her breaths. Quinn was gorgeous – it was insanely so, Rachel thought. One of the unmistakable inevitable truths of her universe; she smiled.

"So should you sleepyhead. It's late."

"I'm not a sleepyhead."

Quinn's brows furrowed as she buried her face into the side of her pillow in languid defiance – Rachel simply smiled brighter. How could Quinn be her unanimous undoing?

Rachel stayed where she was, not sure on what ground they stood. Of course they had kissed earlier, but the interruption and the less than thrilling mood thereafter had dramatically dampened their advances and Rachel had no choice but to leave – mostly to collect herself, and to reign in her flurry jigsaw puzzle of emotions – when she had returned late after dinner, it was to find the blonde as she was now. Sleeping with her fingers clutched loosely over Rachel's forgotten copy of _Emma_ by Jane Austen at her side.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Quinn. I'm so sorry. I wish I could stay with you."

Quinn's sleepy eyes snapped open at that, and she turned her body amid the blankets and the leg sling so that she could face the brunette – she smiled lazily and closed her eyes – breathing all of Rachel in, committing her to memory.

"Please come."

Rachel's eyes were fit to mist over as she uncurled her tired body from the uncomfortable chair and made her way over to Quinn's hospital bed. This time, she lost all tentativeness as she lie down and curl herself loosely around Quinn from behind, resting her head against warm shoulder blades.

Quinn smiled sleepily, feeling slightly disconnected – her head swirling with her recent dosage of pain medication for her leg as she felt a hazy kiss placed on her upper back between her shoulders. She burrowed deeper into her pillow, hoping that they could stay that way forever – encapsulated in a picture frame, committed to memory. Her breathing slowed and her heart fluttered as she felt warm arms pull her in, wrapping carefully and tightly against her lower abdomen, careful of her bandages.

"I'm glad you're here now – that's all I need for now. Just you."

Rachel kissed her back again; letting her tears fall as she listened to Quinn taper off, back into a calm slumber – encased in Rachel's warmth, if only for the night.

**(Sunday, May 21****st****) 10:48am**

_**The ICU waiting room…**_

Santana sat crossed legged against a wood backed waiting chair as she tapped her heeled foot purposefully against the linoleum. She hated hospitals, her dad was a doctor here of course, but it didn't make the sterilized breeding ground any less difficult to bear. She swallowed back her spit – allowing herself to calm down inwardly, because she could never show a fade in her resolve. A crack in the not so evenly coated varnish.

Brittany wasn't visiting this morning, she had dance practice as she did every weekend – but it didn't make visits any easier, the crawling feeling was creeping up her spine again and she gritted her teeth – groaning at her un-comfort, almost pleading for a doctor to arrive to give her the go ahead to visit. It was forty-eight minutes after the opening of ICU visiting hours, and here she still sat, with a washed out crumpled copy of _Vogue_ clutched between her thin fingers.

And then- suddenly, as if conjured - there was Frannie, walking out of the large metal doors leading to the ICU – her hair was in a large messy topknot, and her cheeks were red and blotchy from lack of sleep. She looked tired, extremely tired – and as she walked out of the ICU double doors and began her trek past the busy waiting room Santana growled. And then the older blonde turned her head, locking on the dark bottomless ones of the Latina seated feet before her. Had it really been a whole year? Had it already been that long? Frannie swallowed the large lump that had suddenly manifested itself inside of her small throat.

"Fuck this." The Latina scoffed as she grabbed her purse and belongings, tugging on them vindictively as she rose out of her chair. How dare Frannie come back, she thought menacingly. How dare she be here for Quinn. The dark haired firecracker turned sharply then and bore her eyes on the older blonde's – smirking in achievement at the blatant withdrawal and physical recoil. Frannie's voice was weak as she responded.

"This isn't the time or place Santana. We both know you hate me – what's new? However, this isn't about me, it's about my sister."

"Fuck you Frannie, I know Quinn's still in recovery – and she's doing damn well for that matter, and I'm glad that you've been the only one out of your pathetic little family to actually show an effort. But I still fucking hate you and what you did - you ruined her. Did you know that? You ruined her so well."

Frannie sagged at the accusation. She deflated – because she knew that it was true. And although she could try to mend the crack of disloyalty blemishing her heart, she knew that it would probably take years – if not more to even gain her sister's trust again. But she cared, god she cared. Quinn was her sister – and although her past transgressions held little accountability for that fact – Frannie could never forgive herself, or ever stop loving her. She ran a tired hand over her tired eyes and shrugged her shoulders at the Latina – before walking off completely, coming back from whence she came – leaving the ICU for another tumultuous afternoon. She couldn't take the scrutiny, not at all.

"Yea, run away Francesca – just like you always do."

Santana mumbled after her – watching the doors swing backwards and then forwards with the retreat of bodies and family members – she watched Frannie leave with content – and an ill masked sadness. Things had never been the same since that summer trip, and Santana knew that they never could be.

_July 4__th__, the previous summer:_

"_We're here!" Frannie trilled from the lobby of the Chicago Fairmont Hotel where they had recently just arrived. They were currently having their bags collected and brought upstairs after getting a hold of their room keys._

_The ride up the elevator was both long and short at the same time and Santana couldn't help but be awed at the ornate décor of the hotel – marveling at the luxuriousness – perhaps this trip would actually be fun she thought – she turned to Quinn, who had an equal look of content as the blonde scanned their surroundings._

"_I could get used to this shit." Santana said as the elevator doors suddenly dinged open. _

_And soon they were arriving to their suite – it had a connecting room, and Santana immediately made out that one of the rooms held a singular king bed while the other held two guest beds – Frannie raced to the large single bed suite and squealed at the view. _

"_This one is mine sluts!" _

_Santana watched as Quinn rolled her eyes at her older sister, before throwing her own things on top of one of the double beds and ambling over to shut the dividing door – locking it on her way back into their room. She would not subjugate herself or Santana to her sisters non-stop "higher than though'" banter. That would be simply cruel._

_Santana dropped her bags on the adjacent bed and started running her hands through the liquor cabinet. Scanning over the small vials of alcohol with interest._

"_How did you live with her for thirteen years Q? She's a fucking disaster."_

_Quinn sighed and sagged against the wall as she watched the Latina read over the small bottles of Merlot, Jagermeister and Remy. _

"_I have no idea San. You tell me."_

And just as quickly as the Latina's mind wandered she was being dragged back to the present – a skinny nurse was motioning for her to follow her through the hallway –leading her to Quinn's room for visiting hours. Her feet lulled a bit as she walked, still shaking the memory from the recesses of her mind – this was not the time or the place. When she was ushered into the small room it was to find Rachel curled up on Quinn's bed in her normal clothes – a plaid skirt, knee-highs, penny loafers, and a shirt with a bunny on it. But that was not what caused the Latina pause – she had walked into the room seemingly unnoticed and it was to find the small singer and her Cheerio captain in the remains of an intimate embrace – not kissing or anything – but truly, deeply intimate.

The hobbit was being held in the blonde's arms and Santana watched with widening eyes as she realized that Rachel was crying – her head buried deep into Quinn's neck and shoulder – and Quinn was simply holding her, reassuring her. But anyone who had ever cared for someone deeply could have walked in and seen the writing between the lines – the long embrace, the pattern of circles that Quinn was drawing against Rachel's back – the blinding love radiating off of the both of them. It was excessively blinding Santana thought, and she fought the urge to kick them both.

"What the fuck is going on Q?"

Their embrace disintegrated and she watched with distantly cold eyes as they physically flinched and jumped back from each other's company. Denying their embrace almost completely with their newfound body language – Santana wouldn't let them go that easily though.

"Nothing San – Rachel's just saying goodbye, she's leaving today… from the hospital."

Rachel had wiped at her eyes again as she averted her gaze.

"Uh huh, Oompa Loompa." Santana nodded in acknowledgement at Berry – it was almost a hello – there was no malice lacing the words as they tumbled out of her mouth.

"Don't call her that." Quinn interjected – her face was calm and collected but Santana was not amiss to the red rimmed lashes of her eyes – the mark of sadness, the regal slap to the Latina's character – whatever this was between them, it was unmistakably serious.

"It's fine Quinn, don't worry about it. Hello Santana, it's nice to see you this morning."

Santana simply shrugged her shoulders and made her way over to the hospital bed – she was still reeling from having run into Frannie just minutes before – but she couldn't let her resolve slip – she wasn't stupid.

"So – are you two just going to pretend like I didn't see anything just now – or are you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on between you two?"

Quinn blushed deeply and Rachel turned her head away again – as if trying to avert her gaze, or perhaps her answer.

"We're just friends now. That's all."

Santana slumped down in the seat in the corner smiling – her grin was malicious – although that wasn't exactly her intent – if anything she was a little put off by the fact that the blonde felt like she couldn't be completely honest with her. The smile faded, and she looked up into Quinn's eyes purposefully – her countenance had grown serious, and she tapped her light fingers against the armrest of the chair as she spoke again.

"Bullshit Ellen DeGeneres… Listen, I don't care who or what you do. If its hobbit's with personality disorders that you get off on, than so be it. Who am I to judge Q – if anything, after everything we've been through, I just want to see you happy."

Quinn didn't respond right away and so the Latina continued.

"Especially after everything you went through last year and last summer – You lost everything _mariposa_, and it killed me to watch you drown yourself – every day was like a struggle and I could fell you being carried farther and farther away.

…..But … seeing you in the hospital, so close to dying made me realize that I can't just stand aside anymore and watch you float away – I love you too much for that – and life is way too short. So if you're gay for Berry – than I say fuck it, fuck everybody…because if that's what brings the light back into your life – than that's what I want from you. God, that's what you need _mija_."

Quinn smiled into her lap – her eyes had grown watery and her heart swelled out of her chest. When had Santana become so sagely? So, open about her feelings? It was new, and Quinn was saddened by the fact that her façade was not quite opaque, and that her best friend could read her like a book – but just then, the blonde had realized that the Latina truly _cared_ – and it was one of the greatest gifts she could have ever received.

Rachel had jumped up from the bed and attacked Santana, hugging her close and tightly – relaying all of her appreciation – and the Latina grimaced at the unexpected embrace, letting her arms fall awkwardly to the brunette's back, and then she could hear Rachel's soft voice mumbling out against her shoulder as she hugged her.

"Thank you Santana – you don't understand how much that meant – thank you, thank you, thank you."

And it was then that the dark haired Latina finally hugged back – as she locked eyes with a lightly smiling Quinn – the bittersweet-ness in the room hitting them all like waves on a rocky shore. And so Santana embraced her tentatively - thanking her in the small embrace. Because Quinn just might come back to her; her _mariposa_ just might have the chance to blossom and fly away into the sun. _Her mariposa._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: WARNING – this one gets a little violent towards the end, and I don't want to throw anybody off – so I'll make sure to keep a warning in the fic – but we finally find out here a little bit of what went down in Chicago. So bear with me here guys, I promise it'll all get happier soon.**

Part 8 –

Let There Be Light:

**(Sunday, May 21****st****) 5:36pm**

Quinn watched sullenly as Rachel packed up her few belongings from the ICU – the fact that the brunette had spent most of her time here was not mistaken – her pajamas lined Quinn's hospital bed closet, and her small meters and devices were stricken with gold star decals. Rachel Berry would not let the blonde live without some semblance of brightness in her midst – especially now that Rachel wouldn't be there 24/7. She sighed, and watched as Hiram and Leroy picked up her few small bags.

"Peach, it's not like you won't see Quinn ever again – we'll visit every day."

Leroy was wrapping up the last few belongings as he watched his daughter nod silently before averting her eyes and continuing with her soft, worrisome pacing across the small room. Hiram piped in – keeping his eyes trained on his tasks rather than on his daughter, or on his daughter's "whatever you wanted to call this big purple elephant in the room" friend.

"I think your dad's right sweetheart. Quinn will see you straight away in the afternoon. It'll be just like old times for you two."

Rachel nodded sullenly and chanced a glance at the blonde who was perched up on her bed, doodling aimlessly on her cast with a few sharpies. Quinn looked up and locked eyes with the diva, and she smiled brightly – hoping to transfer some happiness in her smile because although it killed her to watch Rachel go, it hurt her heart even more to witness her sadness. She watched as the small brunette swallowed the lump in her throat – smiling brightly back. And in that singular moment it had been decided.

"Dad, Daddy, this may sound completely ridiculous to the both of you but I expect to be here at ten o'clock every day so that I can be with Quinn. And within the next two weeks once she's allowed to go home…I want to see her as cared for as possible, and quite frankly I believe that our family, with our means have the potenti -"

"Rachel."

"Peach."

She stopped talking when she heard both of her fathers give her pause. When she cleared her head and looked up at them, they were both smiling brightly at her – she couldn't help but feel happy, however very much confused.

"Dad, you both have to listen here, it's about Quinn's future wellbeing!"

They were openly laughing at her now – and she was growing irritated, it was then that Hiram sat up from packing up some of her things and looked at Quinn squarely – smiling at her before turning to his daughter.

"Peach – we decided a long time ago, that Quinn would be coming home with us once she gets better. It has long been the plan, however oblivious to it you both were. And now to see how close you've both grown within the face of great fear and uncertainty – why, we would love to have her. That is if she'll stay."

And at that moment Quinn had stopped her doodling and looked up – her lips beaming, and her eyes full of wonder at the immense showcase of care they were extending to her. Rachel looked fit to burst into to tears – of happiness she was sure, and then Leroy interjected, smiling at his the blonde as he spoke.

"We would love to have you Quinn, don't take our invitation lightly now! Us Berry's are resilient if anything else! What do you say sweetie?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Thank you Leroy, Hiram – for everything. For being there, and for caring for me when no one else would, you guys feel more like fathers to me than my own dad, and I've only had the pleasure of knowing you for a few weeks. I'm floored, and I have no other words to say, I'm speechless..."

Rachel was openly wiping at her eyes now, as was Hiram Berry – the room had taken on an entirely different tone. The sadness of time lost was irrelevant, and now Quinn sat back staring at her now surrogate family feeling as though they could never truly leave her. She watched Rachel compose herself and fix her hair – and she smiled as Leroy and Hiram came over to embrace her before walking out of the small room – and then she beamed when it was Rachel's turn to say goodbye – because it was never really goodbye was it?

The brunette climbed over to the bed – and melted into Quinn Fabray – the blonde held on tightly, anchoring her to the surface – her lips pressing fleeting kisses to brunette hair over and over again as they meddled within their contentment.

"I'll never leave you, you know that right?" The diva's voice was soft and distant as she breathed in the blonde's scent – reveling in its familiarity – ingraining it to memory.

"I'd never let you."

And then Quinn was pulling Rachel's face up softly to meet her own – and her hazel eyes set brightly on Rachel's beautiful brown ones. She blinked slowly, smiling as she tried to chase after the fading image of Rachel Berry that was plastered against her retinas as her eyelids closed.

When she opened them again Rachel was smiling warmly at her, tracing freckles on her cheeks with light fingers. The two of them had yet to discuss their kiss – it was cataclysmic in the driving force of their newfound emotions and friendship – and yet it was almost as if it had been placed upon hollowed ground. Because although the acknowledgement of the overstepping of the friendship boundary had not been made verbally; the connection was not lost on the two of them.

Rachel was blushing up at her – her eyes unwavering, and her fingers traipsing lightly against the blonde's pale skin.

"Quinn – I know, we haven't talk –"

And before Rachel could finish the speech that Quinn knew she would give, she gave her reason for pause – with one fell motion she tilted her chin, brushing her lips softly against Rachel's, the touch was soft and delicate, soothing. And the brunette melted once again into it, letting Quinn navigate their motions – sighing as tender rosy lips parted and brushed against her own, shivering when she felt warm breath tickling her face and lips – blushing when she realized she never wanted them to stop. And then the touch was gone, and her lips felt naked after the abandonment, she opened her eyes droopily to find a smiling blonde staring back at her.

"What was that for?"

Rachel asked—her voice a whisper as she touched her fingers lightly to her tingling lips, trying to unsuccessfully remember the touch of the blonde's on her own.

"Talk is cheap Berry – and that was all I needed and wanted to say. I don't know what this means, I don't have an answer; but I'm happy when I'm with you, you make me happy and you make my stomach flip, and you seem to be all of the things that I've ever wanted….and it's enough. You're enough."

And then Rachel was kissing her this time. It was hard and soft, and delicate and unwavering and passionate. And Quinn's heart burst at the seams, because it was exactly what she needed. And then they were separating for air, and Rachel brushed her lips against the blonde's forehead softly before disconnecting their bodies and rising off of the bed. Her fingers lingered momentarily against the blonde's cheek as she moved away towards the door.

"I'll be back tomorrow Quinn. I promise."

And she couldn't help but feel the rush of tears beckoning behind her irises as she made her way to the exit to join her fathers. She watched as Quinn watched her descent.

"I know."

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you more."

And then Rachel was gone – her feet carrying her past the exit and past the nurses desk and the check in counter – her discharge from St. Stephen's complete. She tucked her hair behind her ear and linked arms with her father's as a nurse assisted her to the double doors at the entrance. Once she was outside she took a deep breath – basking in the feel of the outdoors again – the wind pricking her skin in invitation and welcome.

And as she was helped over to their family car she chanced one more look at the hospital building settling her eyes on the fourth floor where she knew Quinn must be – and she blew a soft kiss, praying that the wind would carry it to it's destined recipient. She smiled in the cold breeze and turned toward the car – happy that she was happy – and even more happy, for their shared well being.

**(Sunday May 21****st****) **

_**Later that night…**_

**Quinn:**

The blonde couldn't sleep well. Rachel had called at exactly eleven o'clock, wishing her sweet dreams and promises of visits. And as she smiled as she texted back, she couldn't help but feel the nagging in the back of her throat as her mind began to waver. As her life had progressed she intended to keep the incident of last summer locked away and buried – but ever since the accident it was a recurring memory – skating across her consciousness when she was awake, and overtaking her senses while she was asleep.

And once Rachel began to visit her in the night, and cuddle up either on the chair or in the bed with her – the nightmares would stop, and she would forget – letting her body fill up with the joy of having Rachel there at all. But now as she lay in bed, tossing and turning she couldn't help but feel cold and alone. And when her eyes finally settled and her body succumbed to sleep – she couldn't stop the nightmares from coming.

_July 4__th__, last summer –_

_She got dressed quickly, as she tried to keep up with her sister. They were rushing as shoes and make-up were applied in ornate mirrors. She could hear Santana grumbling in the background as the Latina adorned her black pumps. She rolled her eyes as she put on her dangling earrings, watching Frannie toss and turn around the room looking for her clutch._

"_Frannie, it's only ten thirty, why are we rushing?"_

"_God Quinn seriously, I thought you were smart. You're the head cheerleader don't you know anything about the rules of good partying? You're so naïve it hurts."_

_She could feel Santana coiling up behind her – beginning to lash out. Her best friend could only take so much of her older sister at a time – too much exposure and there was bound to be an explosion._

"_You mean to tell me, you woke me up from my nap –Just to brings us to a party that you didn't even ask if we wanted to go to?"_

_Quinn watched as Frannie rolled her eyes. Mistake number one._

"_Oh puh-lease Santana – once we get there you'll be bowing at my Prada adorned feet. Now get your shit – we have a party to make."_

_Quinn recoiled and placed out a hand, calling Santana down – she had to act quickly because the Latina only had so much leash left to bark – and it was getting longer and longer by the minute. She shook her head and motioned for them to get their purses, brushing her hand against Santana's – willing her to calm down – this trip would only last for two days. They'd be home soon._

_They arrived at a small underground bar. It was extremely closed off, and it looked exclusive. When she asked Frannie about it, her sister shrugged it off saying that she found out about it from one of her friends from Ole Miss – A frat boy from outside of the city. Santana shrugged her shoulders, and she looked back warily at the misty street before following her sister inside. The bar was off in a corner, and the room was vaguely empty save for the occasional person lounging in the bar stools or on the central floor. It was lowly lit – and somewhat chic – however Quinn couldn't help shaping up bad vibes from the place._

_And then Frannie had grabbed her by the wrist and was pulling her off to the bar to get drinks. The bartender was young and he had a light shadow across his angular face. He poured mixed drinks for the three of them, and Quinn looked at her own questioningly. _

"_Thanks Javier, keep 'em coming babe."_

_Frannie trilled as she threw back her drink – Quinn stared after Santana, who was eyeing her own drink curiously before shrugging her shoulders and tilting back the tumbler – shivering as the alcohol burned down her throat. When she turned back around another glass was already waiting for her and she looked up at Javier. He smiled at her and threw his towel over his shoulder as he poured more drinks – she remembered smiling back._

_And as quickly as the time passed so did her inhibitions. One drink turned into four and four turned into two extra tequila shots, and now she was completely wasted. She didn't know where Santana had run off to in the time that they had all gotten wasted, and somehow she couldn't formulate the urge to properly care. She danced in the center of the small club to music she couldn't quite make out and before she could figure out what was happening a warm hand was grabbing her wrist and pulling her up from behind. Her mind was hazy as she felt strong hands brush at her hips and a tall firm body grind into her from behind along to the music. She giggled when she felt stubble scratch at her neck. _

"_Rachel?" She whispered against the body behind her – calling forward the image of the brunette that she could never get out of her mind – even in her haziness. She had always been able to repress her feelings for the diva but they always managed to surface in instances of extreme intoxication._

"_Rachel? Now way babe – you're a hot little thing aren't you."_

"_Where's Rachel – I wan' er to sing to me." She crooned drunkenly._

"_I don't know who that is. But I'll do a lot of things to you darling."_

_She giggled again as she was spun around sloppily, her heels acting against her wobbling ankles – and then she set eyes on Javier – he was holding her up, and he was out of his bartending clothes, and now she could really look at him. His eyes were dark and glossed over and she could tell that something was off about him – but she fell into him anyways – loosing her balance with the rhythm. _

"_Aren't you my bartender?" She mumbled crookedly as he ground into her again with the music – his hands palming her backside from behind and squeezing much too tightly. _

"_I can be anything you want me to be."_

_She could smell cigarette smoke on his breath and tried to unlatch herself from his grip but failed. Where was Santana? And as she tried to open her eyes to look around she felt his lips crashing down on top of hers – her body too weak to break away. She moaned into him, a cry for help – and it was misconstrued; at the noise he simply latched on tighter, bringing a hand down between her legs roughly and palming her over her dress. She gasped and broke away sloppily._

"_No, no, n – Santana? Where's Santana?"_

_He laughed at her and reached for her hand pulling her after him as he left the dance floor. She wobbled behind him, unable to unhitch herself from his grip. They ended up at the far end of the bar, and he was bringing her through a door – up some disjointed stairs – she remembers falling down on them over and over again as he laughed and pulled her up. And once they reached the landing over the bar – they walked into a room to find ten people – Frannie being one of them, all in states of passing out amongst the cushions and beds. _

_Some of them were half naked – others smoked in the corners, but as Quinn's hazy eyes veered from left to right she spotted her sister at the couch, crouched deliciously over a coffee table, snorting lines of white powder into her nose as she laughed along to words that weren't funny at all. _

"_Frannie?" She remembered saying, and when she looked up her sisters eyes were distant and unresponsive – she watched drunkenly as Francesca dropped back down to do another line, and before she could back away from the misery of it all she felt Javier dragging her violently over to the coffee table – he discarded her quickly, letting her fall to the floor as he reached over to take a line for himself. Her eyes began to water. She didn't want to be here anymore – but where was Santana? Where was Santana? And then she heard laughing._

_When she looked up again, her face was streaming with drunken tears, and her mascara was running. But she noticed that Javier, Frannie, and the other partyers up there were now laughing at her misery – reveling in it as she drowned in drunken sorrow. She had to leave. But as she tried to get up, her head swam dangerously and she tried to brace herself, falling over in the process – and then large hands were grabbing her at the waist and pulling her up. She wanted to say thank you – but when she looked up it was to find Javier leering back down at her as his hands began to roam and grope._

"_You're sister tells me you're a good fuck. She wasn't lying when she said you were hot - you had better be – for all the coke I just supplied her with, proper payment is in order."_

_And as he spoke his tongue danced out against her warm skin and she felt the urge to vomit – but held it back. What was he saying? She couldn't make out his words, but felt at a loss as she was being lifted and carted into the bathroom. The door banged shut behind them and she tried to grip at the counter but couldn't formulate her movements in the haziness. And then she felt his hot breath riding down her back – and a cool breeze stinging her skin, and she heard her dress falling apart around the seams as he removed it menacingly. She tried to stop his hands but they were determined, and her protests were too shallow – muddled by the drunkenness of her brain. Where was Santana?_

_And before she could push him off she felt him. Grinding into her hip and she gagged. She began to dry heave as he unbuttoned his pants – and he pushed her violently back against the sink – breathing into her mouth as he worked at his fly. His large hands found their way under her dress, and she felt him push her underwear aside – his smile sinister as he held her in place, unable to move against the bathroom counter. She whimpered – but in her head she was screaming, and she tried to fight – she tried to find the strength – she begged for it._

"_No – I don't want – Stop it, Stop it."_

_Her protests were laid on uncaring ears and she cried against the tile –willing the HBIC she once knew to come back full force and strike him off – but it all seemed in vain as she tried squirming away, only to be met by a sharp hand hitting her squarely in the jaw. And just as she was about to pass out the door banged open, and a large body was being thrown off of her. Javier's fly not even completely unzipped. And as she fell into unconsciousness she could distantly hear her Latina breaking bad all over that godforsaken club – saving her from the misery she new she was only moments away from enduring._

And then she awoke. Panting as the hot tears soaked her thin hospital pillow. She curled up into her blanket as best as she could – willing the memory to fade, however knowing it wouldn't, it never could.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9 –

And Then There Was One:

**(Tuesday, May 23****rd****)**

Rachel sat against the loveseat in her living room. Her socks were thick and soft, and she had pulled them up her calves to their entirety – she wore baggy sweatpants that she had snatched from the airport gift shop at JFK after their Glee Club trip to nationals, and an overlarge t-shirt with a large image of a teddy bear printed across the front that read: **SO BEAR-Y CUTE**. It was a wonderfully terrible play on words but the brunette loved it for all that it was worth. And as she snuggled into her seat to watch _Funny Girl_ (since she couldn't do much else) her mind wandered.

She kept traipsing over the same image over and over again. Quinn Fabray. It had only been a day really since her dismissal from St. Stephen's and Doctor Hayes. And while her injuries were still making themselves very much present she was happy for their efforts – and she was sad to go. She missed the cool feel of her padded socks making their way down familiar corridors…and the way that the blonde's face would light up at her entrance despite the tubes and the ventilators. She missed the way that Quinn's lips felt pressed against her own - and how effortlessly her pains faded into the background when they were together. She missed her - and it hadn't even been a full 48 hours – but she missed her so much it hurt.

"Daddy."

She called from her prime location. Her small studded bell jingling between her lithe fingers as she beckoned for him. It was an overly dramatic gesture even for Rachel – however, Rachel was born with a flare for it and so she happened to overlook the ludicrousness of the situation and rang her bell in dramatic acceptance as she worried her thoughts.

"Peach, is that bell really necessary?"

Leroy interjected as he appeared in the living room – having made his way from the kitchen. Rachel blew out hot air and set the bell down loudly against the coffee table before working her lips between her teeth in worried pause.

"Daddy – I'm being serious here. Disregard the call bell – I just wanted to ask you something."

Leroy grew serious and attentive as he sat down on the armrest, stroking his daughters hair back behind her ear as he nodded – preparing himself to listen to her every, whim, joy, hurt, pain and/or care.

" Can you or dad take me to see Quinn – I need to know how she's doing. I miss her."

Leroy smiled down at his pouting daughter, bell in hand and smiled, laughing softly at her antics. Because of course they were going to take her to see Quinn today – the blonde had become the last addition to their newfound quartet the minute that she arrived at St. Stephen's and although much had not been discussed with Rachel. Leroy and Hiram had both stayed up for numerous long nights in deep thought; both resilient about their future and where the blonde would soon fit within it; And happy to finally see their daughter at peace.

Leroy smoothed over the hair that was sticking out of Rachel's soft ponytail as he picked up Rachel's chin with a large soft hand, effectively ending her pouting on the spot.

"And why do you even have to ask, Peach? I believe you already know the answer to that question."

He was smiling at his daughter warmly – happy to finally see her work out the answer for herself, resulting in a beaming smile of her own. He watched as her cheeks blushed and he laughed inwardly at how ridiculously in love his daughter was – it was impossible to miss the signs. Rachel nodded softly and Leroy patted her head as he ascended from his perch on the armrest.

"We're heading over to the hospital right around dinnertime so we can all share a meal with Quinn, and you can stay for as long as you like, or at least until the nurses' or Dr. Hayes kick you out."

Rachel smiled back at her father and nodded.

"Now, back to the kitchen before Hiram figures out that I was sitting on the armrest of his favorite loveseat/sofa set. Goodness forbid."

Rachel laughed as she watched her father go. Before turning back to _Funny Girl_. It was almost over now, and as Barbra let her voice fall and swoon in her final number _My Man_, Rachel couldn't help but blush all the more – because although her feelings were a jumbled mess of attraction, confusion, lust, and awe – she couldn't negate the fact that beneath all of that – the trappings of love were riling within her heart. And that Quinn Fabray would be her savior in more ways than one.

**(Monday, May 22****nd****)**

**Francesca:**

She sat in her small hotel room and blinked as she watched the wall before her red-rimmed eyes. God, where had she gone so wrong? Twenty-two years old, and already her life had fallen apart in every way imaginable. She watched darkly as her iPhone dinged to life and she stared blankly at the text bubble on the screen, flinching as her father's name was highlighted within blue. She had been ignoring his phone calls for the past eight months – only speaking to him when she called to inform him about Quinn's accident and her condition. But although she was now in Lima, and back from her senior year at Ole Miss – she wouldn't be visiting them again. So much in her life needed fixing, and Russell Fabray was at the bottom of her long list of indiscretions and might have beens.

Her hands were shaking again. She scanned the room quickly with darting eyes as she tried to ignore the coiling of her insides. She wrapped her freezing arms tightly around her small body in a means to ease the motion. And then she pulled the cigarette pack from her back pocket, sighing in reprieve as she pressed a cigarette to her naked lips, and inhaling peacefully after lighting it. Delighting in the tension it automatically began to erase.

She stared at the small baggie atop her night table – she hadn't used in weeks, but as the stress mounted, and as she begged for forgiveness she knew she didn't deserve, her resolve began to wan and fade – and the promises she had meant to keep fell precariously into unyielding flames. She got up and made her way to the small table, emptying a line onto the polished rented wood, staring blankly with a cigarette perched in her watering mouth as she drew one of her many credit cards out of her clutch on the bed.

"So much for forgiveness."

She whispered as she tapered the fine powder into a thin line with the edge of her credit card. She had meant to stop this a long time ago – she had meant to make everything right again, but as she brought her nose down to the powder and inhaled in a forward motion - the powder disappearing in one fell swoop – she realized that perhaps, she was too fucked up to even do that.

Her eyes rolled back as she let the drug infuse itself within her senses, smiling as the cigarette fell from her lips, hitting the carpet beautifully as she fell back against the comforter – momentarily forgetting about all of her fucking problems – she had to medicate somehow she thought as she burst into a fit of small giggles – not even realizing the small dwindle of smoke that had begun to resonate from the floor before her feet as the cigarette burned a hole into the carpet below.

**(Tuesday, May 23****rd****) 6:06pm**

Quinn was watching incredibly bad television. It wasn't something she usually succumbed to, but as she watched the rain pour outside, she didn't have it in her to read again that afternoon/evening, and so here she was, completely enraptured by the Maury Povitch Show. What a clusterfuck of emotions, Quinn couldn't help but think as she watched case after case come before the audience – after two hours of this, she finally began to add her own commentary to the spectacle. Pointing wildly at the tv screen with her hand in exclamation – however, she learned quickly that she had to be gentle with her ministrations, yelling and jumping out of her bed in anger and awe were not the best recovery tips for her still healing body.

"What a loser." Quinn quipped as she watched the alleged father of twins walk onto the small stage. She boo'ed along with the studio audience as the man on screen flung his middle fingers up to the crowd in malice.

She yelled along with everyone else after hearing the story of his adultery, and his later claims that the babies weren't his. And somehow, for Quinn this truly hit home, because she could relate in whatever fashion she could – even though her name wasn't DeKeshia and her Baby Daddy wasn't DeAnte from the television screen before her. She cried along with everyone else when they showed the eight-month-old twins Felicia, and Finesse as they sat backstage in their strollers.

And just as Maury brought out the manila envelope with the results of the paternity to the main floor for the big reveal – her bedroom door fell open and Rachel, Hiram and Leroy Berry all walked in beaming at her. She blushed intensely as she brought her outstretched pointing fingers down to rest at her sides just as Maury yelled out to his waiting audience.

"DeAnte Lowry…you ARE the father!"

Could be heard in the background amidst the rainfall outside, and the room was exceptionally quiet before Rachel practically collapsed in a fit of giggles just as she reached Quinn's bed. The blonde's cheeks were cherry red as she bit her lip after being caught. Blushing as she watched Rachel's laughter, and the ill-masked chuckles of both of the berry men.

"Quinn, what are you watching – that got you so riled up?"

Rachel let out in between giggles, the blonde ducked her head evasively before grunting out "Maury" in between pressed lips. And just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer Hiram beamed at her amid his own laughter.

"Oh, wonderful taste Quinn, the fat babies episode is a personal favorite of mine."

And then they all burst into a fit of laughter as the audience yelling of the tv show faded ambiguously into the background just as Rachel enveloped her with a warm hug, resting her forehead just against Quinn's before kissing her quickly on the nose.

"You're a dork Fabray."

Quinn smiled at Rachel, her blush still present but now for entirely different reasons – and as Rachel had kissed her nose, their close proximity became painstakingly evident. The blonde scrunched up her nose as Rachel kissed the tip and smiled, her heart fluttering as she felt the brunette's warm breath tickling her cheeks as she whispered down to her. Hazel eyes caught on those perfect lips and her breath caught – and just then – with both of Rachel's father's present Quinn's entire world tuned itself out; leaving Rachel to stand out alone against all of the outside nonsense. Quinn bit her lip as her chest tightened, and as if no one in the world existed she brought her lips up to meet Rachel's, molding them together in a warm embrace. Meeting the brunette's bottom lip with her top ones – interlocking them and reworking the feel of it over and over again in a slow burn.

She fell back, smirking shyly as Rachel jerked forward for more, smiling as she panted out – still waiting for the air to recapture her lungs.

"I missed you." She whispered and she closed her eyes as she felt Rachel humming against her cheek – her words mumbled but still audible as they both embraced.

"I missed you more."

And just as Rachel brought her head up to recapture their earlier kiss, the two girls could hear the telltale signs of clearing throats – and then Quinn blushed, _again_. Because how could she have forgotten that Leroy and Hiram were still there, very much present, and very much watching the both of them. Rachel smiled embarrassingly before straitening up and plopping down on the bed at Quinn's side.

"Sorry Daddies."

"Sorry, L, Sorry H."

They both mumbled as they stared goofily at their hands. Leroy and Hiram shook their heads as they chuckled between themselves. They had seen the whole exchange, and however weird it had been to see their daughter so wrapped up in the blonde – they couldn't help but feel their own hearts swell with pride and happiness, because everyone deserved to love – everyone needed love – and who better a choice for their daughter, than Quinn Fabray.

Leroy waved after the two girls before grasping Hiram's elbow to drag him out of the room.

"We're off to dinner at the cafeteria ladies – don't get too carried away, ahem…or we'll sick the orderlies on you. Eyes and ears everywhere…and Rachel, we'll be back whenever you're ready to go, just give one of us a call."

Rachel nodded amid flushed cheeks, as did Quinn as the two girls watched the Berry men make their leave – closing the door behind them. And once they had vanished down the hallway, the brunette turned around and looked back down at the gorgeous girl before her and smiled brightly—her eyes dancing mirthfully as they locked on Quinn.

"Now, where were we?" She whispered out, and Quinn was all too eager to remind her.


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10 –

For The Love of A Sister:

**(Thursday, June 1****st****) 9:13am**

"Welcome Home Quinn!"

Hiram yelled as he and the three others before him entered excitedly into the hallway from the front door. Quinn in her crutches beaming as Rachel pulled her along – their matching casts now reflecting all shades of the rainbow amidst their mutual adornments of signatures, doodles, and insignias. – and after all of this time, nearly a month in the hospital. They were finally home free – well, as home free as one in recovery could still be.

Rachel looped her good, uncasted arm around Quinn's elbow – her brown eyes teary with wonderment and joy as she looked up and simply sighed at the blonde who was smiling back down at her – could this all be real? And before another thought could catch either girl's mind, there was a raucous boom overhead and then the appearance of bodies and figures in varying states of excitement and awe as they yelled "Surprise" in a beaming welcome.

Confetti fell from the chandelier and Quinn's hazel eyes couldn't help but water as she and Rachel were softly bombarded by their friends and loved ones – smiling into warm embraces as tender eyes locked on everyone in attendance; Mr. Schuester, to Ms. Pillsbury, to Blaine Anderson, and Puck – it seemed as though everyone was there to partake in their own joy – and it was a rightful cause for celebration. And so as Quinn was slowly shuffled over to an overlarge "Welcome Home!" frosted cake she couldn't think of anything better to do than simply blow out the candles joyfully with a beaming Rachel by her side.

The party was spent in moments of observation and overall joy – but Quinn couldn't help herself from feeling at a loss as she sat at the kitchen table surrounded by all of the Glee Club – that she had missed out on so much. She had only been in the hospital for about a month – Puck's party was only a month ago. But as she sat and listened to the teenagers around her she became hyper aware of the fact that the world had kept revolving – and moments and situations laps and overran into one another without waiting for her to catch up.

"Did you hear about Azimio and Karofsky? Those numbskulls didn't even get suspended after getting caught trying to break into the vending machine by the science building on Thursday."

Quinn watched as Kurt's face had fallen at the words, and she turned her eyes to Santana who was sighing in her chair as she stared back at the blonde nonchalantly.

"They're still at school?" It was whispered, yes. But Quinn's small voice hadn't fallen on deft ears and as her admonition escaped all eyes turned curiously on her. Artie was the first to speak and break the silence. Santana was still staring back at her – but her gaze was a little more polished – refined, and searching.

"Why wouldn't they be Quinn? I mean, aside from recent events. Nothing's changed, they still slushie us sure – but they haven't done anything to warrant a heady suspension or an expulsion."

Quinn gulped, trying to quell the growing unease boiling in the pit of her stomach, and the violent swell of anger that was just breaking to the forefront of her vivid hazel eyes.

"They almost killed her! She coul –"

And just as she was about to tell them all of the incident at Puck's party, a small hand found her thigh and as she looked over she found deep pooling brown eyes smiling smally at her, showing her in the lightest of ways that she needn't go there. Rachel shook her head before her smile turned to a grimace and Quinn died down – if the Glee Club didn't know, she wouldn't tell them without Rachel's consent – but it didn't mean that she liked it. She didn't like it one bit.

As she quelled her tongue with a flick of her hand and a whispered "nevermind" she missed the dark eyebrow that arched at her outburst, and the way that her best friend's own eyes burned with anger – because if Quinn was this upset – it had to be something unforgivable, and she would use all of the willpower she had to figure it out from the culprits themselves.

A handful of eyes were still staring at the blonde with confused expressions on their faces – it took Rachel changing the subject dramatically for it to be dropped and/or forgotten. The brunette silently thanked the Gods that their friends were so unreceptive – excluding Kurt, and Santana of course. Those two had keen eyes and ears – much too keen. But she still sighed a breath of relief as the tone of conversation changed – ultimately bringing them to current Lima events. Baseball, and movies – celebrities, and summer gossip – eventually flowing full circle back to Lima.

"Anybody hear about that fire at the Fenton Hotel a few days ago? It was on the news, it looked crazy."

Everyone mostly shrugged, a few heads bobbed in affirmation before Mike continued talking amid his bites of cake.

"They said it was mostly contained, but that whoever caused it left the scene– I think they have prints, and they have a name but haven't been able to find whoever it was. They disappeared."

"Did they say who it was?" Mercedes chimed in half-heartedly. Her heart not really in the conversation but her mind unable to shy away from petty table banter.

Mike shrugged his shoulders as he shuffled another ginormous piece of cake into his mouth, speaking between crumbs and not minding as he licked his fingers between words.

"No name released. Some girl though – looked familiar."

Quinn rolled her eyes. Disgusted by Mike's show of table etiquette at her coming home party. She laughed when Tina grabbed a napkin and threw it at his face – silently beckoning him to stop talking with his mouth open/full. And just as things had begun – things had begun to end. After a few hours Quinn watched as her friends and "real" family made their goodbyes for the night. Stopping to kiss her cheeks and ruffle her hair sloppily (Puck) as they pronounced their happiness at her return as well as their goodnights. Promises were made for later visits with her and the Berry's and she couldn't help but smile up at the ceiling in happy exhaustion as she laid down on the large sofa – her casted leg propped up on fluffed up pillows.

Rachel was sitting on top of her now. She grunted when out of nowhere the brunette had jumped around the couch and softly landed on top of Quinn's lap, sitting up comfortably in a way that wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest but was oddly distracting for the blonde. She huffed as she was brought down from her thoughts as a small bell was rung over and over again above her face by small excitable hands.

Quinn grabbed the brunette's slender hips and forced her to lie down so that now the two girls were side by side (or rather, Rachel on top of Quinn) on the couch – it was mostly an excuse to get Rachel to stop ringing that goddamn bell – but also because she loved having Rachel leaned up against her - it was something she couldn't help but realize she was growing to like and want. She smiled when she felt soft lips brush lightly against her own.

"Hi." The brunette was beaming down into the blonde's face.

"I've been waiting to attack you all day since you got home." Rachel's voice was light and thick all at the same time, alluding to her playfulness while also dragging along the undistinguishable undercurrent of mischief. Quinn smiled up at the brunette and let her hands run themselves along her sides and still healing ribs, resting her thumbs on the fabric of Rachel's shirt.

"Hi, back."

Rachel laughed then before leaning down to meet Quinn's lips softly.

"Such a charmer, Fabray."

Quinn smiled in return.

"Only the best."

**(Tuesday, May 23****rd****) 5:37am**

**Francesca:**

Her eyes were still stinging from the smoke. And her lungs felt heavy and full with every breath. She must have looked ridiculous she thought, but she didn't particularly care. It was a miracle that she had gotten out of her room in the first place. She was so fucking tripped out – she can barely remember it at all. But as she stumbles around by the highway along the trees and shrubs she's suddenly re-gifted with her senses – and all of the emotions she's been trying to run from have quickly come back. She needs another hit – because she can't stand the pain of remembering, but she must have left her Aunt Nora at the hotel. She practically sobbed at the realization that she wasn't holding anymore. She walked and walked down the deserted highway, her feet dragging her off of an exit. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. Her clothes were ash stained and torn. She had cuts and bruises skirting her arms, legs, face and hands. And her pupils were dilated as fuck – because she was still fucking high.

It took her three hours. But after hours of walking she had finally looked up – and how ironic life could be – just then Frannie would have sworn that God really did have a fucked up sense of humor because when she opened her eyes she was standing right in front of her old home. And before she could think to turn around and walk away, the security light beamed on, and the door began to open into the early morning hours.

"Daddy." She said as she slumped to the lawn in a heap and passed out – her binge finally taking hold of her weary brain.

**(Thursday, June 1****st****) 11:43pm**

Santana wasn't stupid.

She was far from it.

She never was one to really care particularly for Rachel Berry – and she wasn't sure if she ever _really_ would grow to legitimately like for the small brunette. But one thing was for sure – Q needed her, Q had always needed her. And although she wasn't much of a friend in the traditional sense of the word – she was damn loyal.

It had taken all of her strength not to call out the total _gay_ parade on full display at Quinn's welcome home party – how could anyone not see the lesbiana all up in there. Perhaps it was because she had a particularly gifted eye for these things, but after observing Kurt – she knew that his gaydar must have picked up on it too because the midget and Fabgay were screwing all over her own radar. But revelations aside – she was secretly happy for Q, and the midget she guessed, sort of. Rachel was always a closet hottie – no one could have denied that fact. For goodness sakes, Puck hooked up with her. And there had to have been a reason for Finn to date her when he knew that she was social suicide walking on a fucking stick.

And so here she was – all up in Azimio's pants. She cringed inwardly – skating over his large biceps behind his garage. Boys were so easy to manipulate – they almost made this sort of espionage fun. Of course, he was falling at her feet as she latched on to his neck, sucking him there smoothly as she stroked over his arms again.

"Yea baby.." he was mumbling obscenities and false affections all over the place and Santana tried her hardest not to gag in his arms. She had to make her move soon, before he decided to take things any further.

"You deserved it, I'm just showing my thanks."

Azimio chuckled as he felt Santana bruise his neck with her lips and teeth. He grasped on to her with more force, as he breathed out.

"I don't know what you mean...?"

Santana rolled her eyes as she worked. These jocks were so insanely stupid she thought as she stroked his biceps again – making sure to writhe against him seductively to keep him going and interested, and from what she could feel – he was most definitely interested.

"At the party – you and Karofsky – that trick with Berry was genius – just showing my appreciation."

He smiled then, nodding as he recollected the incident that occurred almost a month ago at their football rager. It was a good prank – he was a genius for having suggested it, that Berry girl was just too goddamn annoying for her own good. Losers had to be shown their place at McKinley, and it was his duty as a football player to relegate them.

"Yea, I remember that. Classic – she deserved it."

And just when Azimio thought that all was going spectacularly well, the firm hand that had been grasping his bicep a moment ago, was now strategically placed at his groin – his eyes widened in overjoyed surprise, but once he opened his eyes and _really _looked, it was to stare into the blazing, fiery eyes of an evil Santana Lopez.

"Wha -?"

And before he could collect himself, that same hand was clenching him through his jeans and squeezing – hard. Santana used her leverage to push him up against the wall – her hand still clenched around his goods in a vice grip. She watched him maliciously as his face started turning purple from the pain of it. And that is precicesly when she drew a small razor blade from beneath her ponytail clip, and she brought it down to meet her other occupied hand, and started to work at his zipper. Azimio's eyes bugged out and he started splutter in fear as he bucked against her, trying to get away; seemed too shocked at the sudden turn of events to do much else.

"I'll give you three seconds Azimio, to tell me who else helped you that night, or else I'm going first after bean 1, then bean 2, and then señor Frank in rapid succession."

"You have fucking razor blades in your hair!"

"They weren't kidding. Santana Lopez. Does. Not. Kid. Three fucking seconds. 3.."

And just like that the large football player began to splutter and tear like a giant oversized baby. His now flaccid member still being fiercely clutched from the confines of his now exposed boxer briefs. Santana simply scowled as he named off the cheerios involved one by one in rapid-fire succession. Once he was done, she didn't immediately let go, instead slipping on the small pair of brass knuckles she always carried in her back pocket, and put them on – swinging a hard left and knocking Azimio fiercely across the cheekbone. She watched as he fell splayed to the ground, clasping his now bleeding and swelling cheek.

"If you speak a word of any of this to anyone... and I mean _a word._ I am personally coming after you in the dark, and castrating you in your sleep."

She scowled as she watched him nod his head frantically – he looked pathetic in his unzipped pants, his eyes wide with fear. Santana would never castrate the idiot; she was smarter and less obvious than that. But that didn't mean that he had to know it. She still _really_ did carry razor blades in her hair – at least that rumor had some merit. And so with a final fake pump in his direction, she turned on her heel. Leaving him panting and bleeding against the concrete.

And on her way out of the boy's backyard all she could seem to think about was Quinn. Every time she engaged herself in a violent act nowadays, they always inadvertently lead back to the blonde. And while Santana would _never_ admit it, she loved her ex-captain like a sister. And especially after the events of last summer – every moment was an opportunity to protect her family, most notably Quinn Fabray.

She scowled at the thought – life never seemed to catch the blonde a break it seemed. And so while becoming pregnant at sixteen, Quinn had also been graced with the privilege of being born into the shittiest family to walk the face of the earth. And while Santana knew this to a certain degree – their trip to Chicago had solidified it in spades. And since then – Quinn's safety and best interest have always been in the forefront of her mind, right along with Brittany's – because they were a fucking family. And so as she got in her car and sped of down the empty street, she let her memories overcome her – because they hadn't seemed to subside ever since she had seen Frannie at the hospital. Motherfucking Francesca Elizabeth Fabray.

_July 4__th__, last summer – _

_Santana thought this place was sketchy ever since they set foot past the bouncer who didn't card. She watched Frannie and the Bouncer exchange words with highly observant eyes, her body language tensing at the wrongness of it all that she felt. However, this was Quinn's trip. This was a trip meant to build the bridges that Frannie had burned down a long time ago – and so the Latina stood aside, and tried to enjoy herself, even if she knew that she never really could, not with Frannie at least._

_She watched the people milling around the bar as they approached, they were all so – for lack of a better word – grungy. And totally wacked out looking. She couldn't help but feel as though this wasn't common Chicago nightlife. But she shrugged her shoulders – and when the bartender – Jaime or Javier or whatever his name was hands her a tumbler full of liquor and juice she doesn't turn it down and simply downs it before turning to watch Quinn do the same. They stayed that way for about half in hour, sipping on cocktails and shooters. She watched Quinn's shoulders relaxing, and her now hazy eyes fixed on Frannie as she ascended a secret path of stairs towards the back of the club/bar. But before she could think to follow, or at least say something she felt a familiar buzz coming from her clutch. And as she opened it, she found Quinn's phone vibrating with an incoming call. She looked up to hand the phone to the blonde, but Quinn was out of it – and after seeing the name on the screen, _Judy Fabray_ she thought against handing the cell over to her inebriated daughter. And so on a whim, she carted the phone out of the bar onto the cold street to take the call. Judy almost never called Quinn, and so this had to be of some importance._

"_Hello?"_

"_Quinn, dear? It's mom –"_

"_Hi Judy, sorry, this is Santana Lopez actually, Quinn's friend from the Cheerios, Quinn and Frannie left for the bathroom, and so I thought I'd answer."_

"_Oh….I dear. I was just calling because I was wondering how the nursing home visit to grandpa Theo was going?"_

_What the fuck? Santana furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, she held the phone away from her ear abruptly as she tried to regain her composure – surely Judy had NO idea where they had really gone off too. And even though she was completely inebriated, her rage at Frannie was bubbling warmly beneath the surface of her olive veneer – the blonde had some nerve._

"_Grandpa Theo?" She had to make sure that her voice stayed even and unassuming even though she was wrung with worry. Judy wasn't as strong as she once seemed – she was a shell of the woman she once was – and a simple crack on the surface could cause a rippling emotional wave of disaster. _

"_Yes, sweetie – Grandpa Theo. Did you guys not make it to Dayton yet? It's only a few hours away dear.."_

_And there was the etching break in the woman's façade – Santana could hear the worry rippling through her voice like acidic waves, and so she brushed off her earlier statements, laughing lightly into the receiver although she was anything but joyful._

"_Oh, Judy – psh, don't be silly. Yeaaa, we're here. I just always thought Quinn's pop's name was Thomas or something. But no, he's good Judy. Don't worry – I'll make sure Fran sends you a picture on your phone."_

_She could hear Judy physically exhale on the other end of the line, and so in response Santana leant her body against the wall in reprieve. And she thanked whatever God was looking over her for the fact that Judy Fabray didn't know a flying fuck about technology._

"_Oh honey, you know as well as anyone that I don't know how to work those gadgets that you kids are using nowadays. Just a few weeks ago Quinn was trying to show me how to read books on one of those digital reader things? – and frankly, I couldn't stand the thing, it was atrocious –"_

"_Yea. Okay, It was great talking to you Ms. Fabray, I'll make sure to tell Quinn and Fran you called!"_

_And just like that Santana pressed the END call button sharply, exhaling quickly through her nostrils as she shook her head quickly in order to clear it. She knew this was bad. Had she realized that Frannie had blatantly lied about their trip – she may have been able to drag Quinn out of it, and perhaps on a small get together with her and Brittany. Hell – knowing Quinn, she probably had no clue of Francesca's true motives for bringing them out here. It was terrifying to have your immediate underage future within the palms of Francesca Elizabeth Fabray – that girl was just unpredictable. And now that she knew that this entire trip was a hoax she needed to find Quinn – because the blonde deserved to know._

_As she made her way back into the bar the first thing that she noticed in her hazy state was how much emptier it had suddenly become – looking down at her cell she realized that it was still only 12:15am. Perhaps the Chicago nightlife scene ended earlier than she had anticipated? She began her search for the blonde downstairs, making her way through bathrooms and past drunken twenty somethings mingling by the bar. There was no one around – and something was irking her so intently it hurt – but she couldn't quite pinpoint her discomfort in her daze, all that she knew was that she had to keep her guard up around these people. _

_It was another fifteen minutes of threatening the few patrons left at the bar – yelling at them all for answers, wondering scarily where everyone had disappeared to. Where was Quinn? And finally, right before she was about to punch the new unrecognizable bartender in the jaw as she clenched at the collar of his button up – a reprieve. She watched with angry squinted eyes as Francesca herself made her way downstairs from a hidden staircase behind the bar. She was leaning heavily against the wall and her pupils were blown. She didn't even recognize Santana as the Latina boldly approached her – staring directly into her porcelain face – and it was disconcerting in that one instant to feel as though she wasn't being seen at all. And that's when she promptly slapped Frannie fiercely against the face. _

_She watched as the taller, slimmer blonde fell disjointedly to the floor, smiling faintly as she hit her head against the wall behind her._

"_You fucking druggie."_

_And then she was bounding up the stairs two at a time – past the smiling blonde at the foot of the stairs – and when she opened the door to the large room, she felt like vomiting at the scene before her eyes. Apparently this is where everyone had congregated – the freshly powdered cocaine lined up perfectly against glass coffee tables – and as everyone laid out in their early highs, she heard a scuffle to her right – a door hanging slightly ajar – a small cry for help, the falling of a soap dish to the tiled floor below. And she simply knew – and it took every ounce of her will not to kill him right then. Bounding through the door she spots her – crying beneath a firm – unwanted body – yelling for help that for so long didn't come. _

"_You MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE!"_

_And in a fury of rage that was so blinding Santana could barely recall it, she throws him off of her in a swell punch to his face first, and then a kick to his exposed groin. She sees red as he falls to the floor – and she can barely stop the tears from coming as she falls on top of him – kicking him and punching him and ramming him with the soap dish as she fights for a shred of sanity. And it isn't until she hears her – a small plea from a curled up position in the corner of the small bathroom._

"_San. Take me home."_

_And then she really sees her. Quinn is trembling into herself – curled up into a ball – her clothes disheveled and ripped, her mascara running a track of despair across her cheeks. Her vision clears for the first time in minutes – and she finally _sees_. When she looks down at the man beneath her, he is withered and bloodied – his hands cover his face as he cowers away from the Latina. She jumps back from him as if burned, and envelops Quinn as fully as she can. She hurries the blonde out of the bathroom and down the stairs, cradling her against her chest – disregarding her now stained dress. They pass Frannie on their descent – Santana reels in her anger by a thread. And as they leave the small dejected bar behind she can hear Frannie calling for them through the fog._

"_Wait, don't leave me here, you BITCH."_

_And Santana doesn't rise to her rambling – she simply cradles Quinn closer as she hails a cab on the street corner, muttering a whispered "Good Fucking Riddance." Into blonde curls as they make their way back to the hotel in the steely night._


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me everyone. I know I'm not the greatest at the updates – but I'm still writing!****J****And if anyone has any feedback or suggestions for later chapters forany of my fics (Not just this one) feel free to msg me! I love new ideas, goodness knows I need them****JJ**

**-****TSL**

Part 11 –

Promise Me Forever

**(Sunday, June 4th) 9:53am**

Quinn watched from her small guest bedroom as Rachel snored lightly, cuddled up on a puffed out air mattress on the floor. The brunette's hair fanned out in waves against the pillow that she clutched between her one normal, and one casted arm. The blonde had just woken up only ten minutes earlier, but the shock came on as quite the early morning surprise as she laid hazy eyes on a sleeping brunette on her floor whom most definitely hadn't been there when she relinquished herself to bed the night before.

And so it had been – for the last ten minutes Quinn simply watched. She followed the way Rachel's chest rose and fell with her breaths, she smiled at the sound the diva made as she inhaled large whistling breaths in her sleep. She swooned when the diva buried her face farther into the down pillow, and she drooped her eyes at the fact that she deserved none of it. For every second that Quinn watched Rachel, the blonde fell even farther for her – she was inebriated solely on the brunette – and as her heart bat faster and faster, her eyes widened, because she was finally realizing what it could all possible mean.

For weeks now, Quinn and Rachel had been affectionate, if not overly so. They kissed, and cuddled, and swooned over one another but that wasn't a _real_relationship, was it? They watched movies cuddled together on the living room couch, fingertips intertwined – but that didn't mean jack shit did it?

Really, Quinn and Rachel were in the middle of a very heightened and glorified friendship with emotions and romantic feelings - that had no rules or way of legitimate boundaries. How far were they willing to commit to one another? Did Rachel even want to fully commit?

And so Quinn sat up in bed and now watched the brunette forlornly – happy of course to wake up to her surprise presence, but now more conscious than ever before about their recent closeness. And before any solid thoughts could truly sink in and pave way for unwelcome actions, Rachel began to stir.

The brunette opened her eyes and looked around herself – unsure for a few moments about how and why she had ended up on the floor in Quinn's now (guest) bedroom. It took her a few seconds to reacquaint herself, and then she was looking up at the blonde, and smiling sleepily at her.

"Morning sleepyhead."

And now that Rachel was up and looking her directly in the eyes with nothing but warmth – all ill thoughts had vanished from Quinn's mind – yielding to the swell of her heart. She watched as the brunette huffed dramatically before picking herself up to go and move to the large mattress, lying down opposite Quinn now; their knees and hips touching ever so slightly.

"Hi you, if you don't mind my surprise – If I remember correctly when I went to sleep last night there wasn't a large air mattress on my floor. Or an adorable sleeping brunette snoring on it."

She watched as a small smile play on Rachel's lips before quickly descending into a playful huff.

"Quinn Fabray, I do not snore!"

Quinn ran her fingers through her hair and laughed.

"Says the girl who kept me awake all morning with said snoring."

Rachel pouted out her lip and turned her head away from Quinn's on the pillow. The blonde laughed – clearly upsetting the diva even more. But before Rachel could turn her full body over, Quinn took a warm arm and snaked it around the brunette's slender waist, pulling her in closer by the inch. And just as she pulled the small diva into the softness of her own body, she buried her face into the brunette's warm neck. Setting her lips right on the crook of Rachel's collarbone lazily. And just like that - all taunts at indignation were gone, and Rachel was all but putty in her more than willing fingers.

"You're adorable when you're sleeping."

The pout was back – but it was no more than a fading image on now slowly smiling lips. Rachel looked up and kissed the blonde on the forehead – as her mouth was currently occupied. And as she brushed her lips against soft, tan hair – she caught sight of a small scar along Quinn's hairline– one of the many faint remains of their shared horror. She followed it with a soft finger, tracing it as it receded back into the blonde's scalp before kissing it tenderly.

"You can barely see it anymore…"

Quinn looked up at the brunette and saw the soft, far away look in Rachel's warm brown eyes.

"There are still a lot of them left – but they're fading… somewhat."

"I know…mine are fading too. But I still hate that they're there."

Quinn watched as Rachel subconsciously laid a hand on her abdomen, tracing the wrinkles of her shirt there – unbeknownst that she was outlining the small scar from her surgery – marking it warily with her fingers. Quinn quickly stilled her hand, and snuck her own under the hem of the brunette's shirt, lifting up the fabric now, so that it laid over her ribcage but no further. And with the most tender care anyone could ever muster, she leant down and trailed her tongue along the small seam, following it with soft kisses as she went.

"You're beautiful Rach – how could your scars be any less so?" She whispered.

And Rachel bristled, her body tingling from the sudden contact. Her heart falling to her feet as she watched Quinn praise her body and mark it with nothing less than love. And just like that – she knew. It hit her like a freight train in the early morning winter air – and she gasped because it was as if her heart were so full that something had to give. Quinn stopped her mouths praises and looked up at Rachel from the brunette's torso – her face etched with shock and worry.

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't –"

And then a small hand was pulling Quinn's chin up slowly, and warm lips found hers hungrily. Quinn had momentarily lost her mind – after hearing Rachel's proclamation of self doubt, over something far beyond their control – over something that if anything accentuated her beauty – it was ridiculous. Because just then, and really – always – Rachel had been the most beautiful girl Quinn Fabray had ever had the privilege of knowing. And as such, in a moment of lapse she simply turned the reins of her overactive brain over to her eager and willing heart. And she just felt the brunette. She felt. And suddenly as her senses came to – she realized the gravity of her actions, and she shied away – unsure if they were warranted, or even wanted. And now, with Rachel's warm lips claiming her own – she was glad that she finally let her heart take over for once.

And now as the sun flitted in through the blinds both girls were lost. Lost to the physicalites of their own blossoming emotions. Rachel had finally really given in to Quinn – she was opening herself up for uncertainty and failure perhaps – but wasn't that the definition of a leap of faith? And so as she marked Quinn's lips as her own her hands found purchase at the small of the blonde's back.

Quinn was utterly captivated by all things Rachel Berry. She was gambling with her heart here – she knew. But she couldn't – no she wouldn't stop, because life was about taking chances and succumbing to will, and embracing freedom. Did she not deserve any of those things? And suddenly a memory crossed her addled mind, and she settled on it, sighing contentedly as the brunette beneath her stroked the warm skin of her back. It was something about Dr. Seuss, a memory of her and her sister in far less complicated times. Her baby had yet to be born and in an uncharacteristic show of compassion Frannie had sent her a card. Inside it held a single dried white lily beneath the words:

"_When you are in love you can't fall asleep because reality is better than your dreams. – Dr. Seuss"_

_I've never told you how much I really do love you Quinn. And this is much to late for any type of rehabilitation of our sisterly bond. But know, that I'll always love you. I can't wait to be an auntie!"_

_Fran_

At the time Quinn had burst into tears because however distant her and her sister were, she realized that at least one person cared. And while she didn't have the heart to tell her sister then that she wouldn't be keeping Beth – the thought was the real prize. And now, as she lay atop Rachel Berry those famous words flowed on a continuous stream through her brain as she kissed first Rachel's collarbone, and then her earlobe, and finally after darting her tongue into the brunette's ear she whispered there – sealing her heart's fate.

"Am I dreaming? Because how could I ever deserve someone like you?"

Rachel simply fell further. And then she was pulling Quinn's tank top over her head slowly – wary of the blonde's still tender ribs and her cast. She watched Quinn shiver before her before re-attaching her arms around blonde's firm (_smoking_hot) middle. And in a moment Quinn was reaching for the hem of her shirt, trailing it over Rachel's head in return. And for a second, they just stared at one another, both bare from the neck down aside from their bras and sleep bottoms – their eyes connecting through the morning haze.

"Your cast is scratching me."

Quinn whispered. And Rachel smiled, laughing as she brought their bodies closer together, shivering as their covered breasts connected for the first time.

"So is yours."

And then they were both laughing as Rachel turned them over slowly – and carefully. Mindful of the blonde's still healing leg It was supposed to be elevated – but all thoughts of sense had floated out of the window. And now one of her hands rested across Quinn's thigh as she leant in to continue their ravishing.

Quinn grimaced – she had forgotten about her injuries – albeit how conspicuous they were, Rachel was a good distraction. But now that they had switched positions so many times, she couldn't befall the slight throbbing in her thigh, and before Rachel could fully continue their musings, she sighed and smiled before disconnecting their lips.

"What is it? You want to stop, I thought you liked kissing?"

Insecurity on Rachel Berry was unwelcome – because the brunette had no need for it whatsoever, she was perfect. And so Quinn smiled again and pecked the diva's nose once before shaking her head.

"You're delicious."

"Oh – in that case. Why did we have to stop?"

The pout was back – and goddamn it, how was Rachel Berry this insufferably adorable all the time?

"Because firstly my leg is killing me. And secondly… I don't want us to get ahead of ourselves."

Rachel had jumped back off of Quinn in a hurry – her face one of sad panic as her eyes widened, unwelcome to the idea that she could have caused the blonde further pain. Quinn quickly re-assured her by kissing her softly on the lips and curling her arms back around her.

"You didn't do anything – I just need to take my meds. I'm due."

The brunette nodded warily before she furrowed her eyebrows, the second part of Quinn's earlier answer most likely swirling in her head.

"Ahead of ourselves? I apologize but I don't quite understand your reasoning behind said statement. Explain."

Ever to the point Quinn thought as she gave Rachel a small nervous smile in return. Quinn was excellent at portraying things in a way that were protective to her true emotions or intentions. She was manipulative in the fact that she could riddle you with truths, but not once would you be privy to her true motives or emotions. She had to learn to side-step that personality trait of hers, and so with tense shoulders she closed her eyes, and let out with it.

"I…I really like you Rachel. In fact, It could possibly be even more than that. You mean a lot to me, and I never want to see you hurt ever again, nor do I want to be the one to do it. And while I love kissing you and rolling around with you every minute of every day…I don't want to fall into a gray area with you, where you believe that the physical aspects of our relationship are all that matter to me. I want to wait with you. I want to be there with you for everything – and I don't want to completely override all of the possibilities of that by doing something in the heat of the moment. I want all of you – but I need your heart first."

"Quinn…you've always had it."

There were warm tears in Rachel's eyes, but a large beaming smile gracing her face. Quinn exhaled and smiled back - and as Rachel nodded excitedly in her arms she couldn't help the smirk that crept up onto her bright face.

"Does this mean we're…"

"Quinn Fabray, who else would it be? would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

Rachel never got an answer, she simply swooned as a sweeping tirade of kisses came sailing down from the bright golden, porcelain body above her – giggling all the while, as kiss after kiss after kiss came crashing down over ever-welcoming tan skin.


End file.
